Day 2 of Art & Snot

Our garage is a dirty pit. We have cleaned it so many times, yet, every time I go in there, it is like it never happened. I blame a lot of this on The Boy who a) keeps filling it up with packaging from his ebay and craigslist habit (those guitars don't keep in small boxes, you know), and b) we have lots of boxes of clothes for donation, and paint cans that need to be taken to a place that will accept them--both of which The Boy promises to take care of but is way too busy to actually make that happen. Usually too busy with all those toys he keeps buying. Then we can blame our little orange lover and all the towels he urinates on each night. We let them build up for awhile next to the washer until we've run out of towels to give him to urinate on. Then there's also all those magazines The Boy is hoarding. He doesn't like to admit it, but he can't throw a damn thing away. So the garage is full and dusty. He has his own studio, and I get the trash room that isn't heated nor air-conditioned. Complain and moan, complain and moan.

Today I woke up with a migraine. I was literally blind with pain, and had a terrible time using my cell to text my boss that I would be running late. I ended up texting her twice because I needed more time to get my eyesight back and my stomach out of my throat. It was storming outside, and I could tell that the temperature had dropped significantly, which equals allergy hell for me. So I slept about 4 more hours, and Mattress ended up sitting on half my face for most of the time. I'm sure this did not help my lungs, but damn, it was so nice cuddling with such a fat Siamese. I also believe he managed to NOT drool on me, which is an accomplishment for him.

I managed to eek out 6.5 hours of work, while dying on the inside. ECL lectured Twit on his feeling of the public option and healthcare. If I feel really nice one day, I'll post what he said. It is abhorrent. Damn socialist really gets his hackles raised. It must be hard to be ECL. I felt so dizzy and full of mucus that I knew going in to the garage was not going to be F*U*N. However, I did my best to overcome this by 1) listening to a mix of the Raveonettes, 2) taking Klonopin and Zyrtec and 3) texting with Flammo. I may have been sucking back a lot of snot and rubbing glass grit across my nostrils with each swipe at my nose, but damn, I really did make the best out of a bad situation.

Here's the run down so far:

Day 1: Wedding Present mix and 2.5 hours of work
Day 2: Raveonettes mix and 2.5 hours of work

Here is what I have so far (it is 12" x 45", it is absolutely HUGE):



When I came back in to the house, all dirty with fingers covered in drying glue, this is what greeted me:



Nothing like Lumples airing his empty ball sack. I don't believe him for one second that he plans on using that red exercise ball at any point. Though, I like how he likes sleeping next to it. It's very audacious. Like he's daring me to call him out on his laziness. Little does he know that mama can totally top his on how lazy one can be. I don't even pretend I'm going to do anything more with that ball than roll it in to Mattress, because that really makes him angry. HA!