One of my friends from work and her new boyfriend came over for games and a possible lunch on Saturday. I got up early enough that I'd have enough time to have a leisurely breakfast before tidying the place up. Nothing big just dishes all over the kitchen, knitting all over the living room, and some hardwoods in need of serious vacuuming. It didn't take long to do and I had time to go to the grocery store for some fresh baked croissants (thanks, Dough Boy) and strawberries. Because nothing says "I'm a freaking homemaker" like having fresh baked goods and fruit on the lazy Susan.
They ended up being significantly later than anticipated so I puttered around, not wanting to get into the serious productivity like turning our office back into functional space after last weekend's painting extravaganza. I didn't really mind because it was a chance to take it easy which I haven't really done around the house on a Saturday since May.
When they showed up, my friend asked me if all I'd done today was clean the house. I know that her intention wasn't for it to come out the way it did, but I was worried my house wasn't clean enough to justify the several hours she was assuming I spent cleaning. If it was 2 o'clock and we could reasonably assume I'd been cleaning since 10, how dirty must my place have been? Also, how boring is someone who spends her weekends painting and cleaning and unpacking and no I still don't know where a lot of things are but I have ideas, okay?
It's a married people problem. My friend with her new boyfriend do about fifteen things a day, including starting the morning off with a trip to the blood clinic. So while they're off saving lives and going for breakfast and being in Corner Gas movies I'm just cleaning my house. And you know what? I didn't even clean the toilets. I faked it.
When you're single your life is so much more exciting. You go out for dinner, you go for drinks, you volunteer at childcare centres, you go see football games, you go see baseball games, you go to the club and paaaaaarty. When you're married and a new home owner, especially in a city where you don't know anyone, you spend your weekends painting spare bedrooms, unloading the dishwasher, watching movies about zombie love stories, knitting, going to bed early, and getting SO EXCITED about the clearance section at Superstore. That $9 basket is on sale for $3.44? I'll take three and come back for more next week. It's a married people problem.
One of my coworkers lives the good life. He knows all the people in town, and everywhere you go his friends own it. He's got so many friends that he was triple booked for birthday parties last weekend and I'm not actually sure he has time to sleep. My idea of a triple booking these days is which movie on the PVR I should watch. His problems are single people problems.
The funny thing is, we like our problems and we keep them and we snuggle them while we're at home watching Despicable Me 2 and eating naked popcorn. At least us married people do because we're so exciting that we need naked popcorn to keep us grounded. Single people probably take their problems to play Quidditch in the park.