Stream of Consciousness Sunday…the control freak edition…


I am a control freak.  I’ve always been a control freak.  Sometimes I try to deny it…but lately my control freak tendencies have gotten worse.  The other day, J mentioned that he’s going to be on vacation for two weeks after Thanksgiving and he’s going to spend the time in CT, installing molding and building bookshelves and painting.  At hearing this news, I had a physical reaction.  My heart started beating faster and I palms started to sweat.  What did he mean he was going to put up molding WITHOUT ME?????  There is no way I can take those days off work…he’s going to be unsupervised.  What if he messes it up???  What if I hate it???

Seriously…this was pretty much the worst news I’d gotten all week…you know, except for what’s going on with my dad.

Later on the same day, we decided to hang new drapes in the den.  Two minutes into the project, we started arguing.  J asked that I just step back and give him control of the situation for a few minutes.  I did…I stopped giving orders and I let him be in charge.  I stood quietly by, handing him tools and checking the level when he asked me to…and doing my absolute best to hold my tongue.  It was almost painful.

On the second bracket, J ran into trouble…the molly bolts weren’t holding.  I really wanted to jump in and help…but I stayed quiet and let him work out his next step.  He tried several other anchors we had and finally found one that seemed to be working…until he overtightened it and pulled the whole thing right through the wall.  I can’t tell you how difficult it was for me not to scream “I told you so!!!”

We decided to hang the drapes another day…after the hole in the wall is repaired.  If I get my way…I will just hang them on a day when J is out…and I am pretty sure I won’t end up with a giant hole in the wall.  But I don’t know how I’m going to handle being at work for two weeks while he’s home, cutting and nailing and sanding and painting all on his own.  I’m going to be a basket case…and I’m probably going to have a really unproductive week at work.

I really have to work on letting go more.


This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

1. Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
2. Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
3. Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
4. Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
5. Link up your post with all.things.fadra.
Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

The one where I bring out the crazy…

We recently hired a bookkeeper in my office to help me out with tasks such as paying bills and doing bank reconciliations so I can spend more time focusing on things like tax returns.  I know…you are so jealous of me right now. 

Anyway, I was excited about hiring a bookkeeper.  It was going to take so much work off my plate and give me so much more time to get things done.  It was going to be great…in theory. 

The reality is that I’m far too much of a control freak to actually be happy about this situation.

I am currently sitting at my desk with a pile of bills in front of me.  Each bill has been reviewed, entered into Quickbooks and a check has been cut for payment.  They are clipped together and ready to be presented to my boss for signature.  The process of paying bills is one I loathe…it’s time consuming and annoying.  I should be thrilled that this has all been done for me.  And yet…I’m not.

Instead I’m sitting here all irritated.  I’m irritated because the paperclips are all wrong. 

Yes, the paperclips.

I realize how completely insane this sounds, but I have this thing about paperclips.  I have to have the smooth finish paperclips.  I keep two dispensers on my desk at all times…standard and jumbo.  A non-slip paper clip will never see the inside of one of those dispensers.  I absolutely HATE non-slip paper clips.  I also HATE those plastic coated ones.  One of the girls in my office likes to use fancy square paper clips and I don’t like those either.  When someone gives me something with the wrong paperclip, I immediately remove the offending clip and replace it with a proper one.  Then I throw the offending clips in the trash.  I know…it’s sick. 

So that’s what I’m doing right now.  I’m reviewing the checks that were prepared for me and I’m changing all the paperclips.  And I’m irritated. 

I should probably be medicated.

I want you to want to do the dishes…

Or, in this case, hang up your jeans.  This is a concept that J does not seem to understand.  Housework is a touchy subject in our house.  J seems to think that the cleaning and other chores just get done by little magical fairies that come in the middle of the night.  It’s one of the major things that we fight about. 

I admit that I can be a little lax about cleaning the house.  First of all…I hate cleaning.  And I work a lot so I want to spend my little bit of downtime relaxing and hanging out with J.  If it was up to me, I would hire someone to come and clean…expensive, but I feel it’s money well spent.  J won’t hear of it.  He doesn’t like strangers in his house and often reminds me that my mother’s cleaning lady stole my grandmother’s engagement ring.  So I don’t have someone else clean the house…I do it myself.  As much as I hate cleaning, I have a system and it only takes me a couple of hours on a Sunday for a major cleaning and then a few minutes each night to tidy up. 

I don’t really let J help with the cleaning because I am a control freak and if he doesn’t clean something the way I like it done, I just have to do it over.  So if he’s home while I’m cleaning, I usually make him go watch tv or something.  Him not helping with the actual cleaning is not the issue.  I’m not asking him to clean…I’m just asking him not to make a mess! 

The top three that really get under my skin are:

  1. When he makes peanut butter bones for the dogs in the morning, he leaves the dirty, peanut butter covered knife on the counter.  Our counter is brown granite, so it’s a blob of peanut butter really blends in with the pattern.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve put my hand down on the counter, only come up with a palm full of peanut butter.  This makes me insane.
  2. He doesn’t wipe out the sink after brushing his teeth and there are always a few drops of toothpaste left over.  He also leaves little hairs around the sink after shaving.  The sink is white, which makes every speck of dirt glaringly obvious.  Would it kill you to take a tissue and wipe it up? 
  3. His jeans live permanently on the dining room chair.  He comes home, takes off his coat and his pants and hangs both on the back of the chair.  I don’t like that but I’ve made my peace with it, because he’s been doing it for two years and I can’t get him to stop.  The thing is…his pants are now migrating to the living room.  Last night, in order to sit on the corner of the couch, I had to move three pairs of pants/jeans.  Why do they need to be there.

Last night, we had a sort of “State of the Union” conversation and this stuff came up.  He said if his pants were bothering me all I had to do was ask him to move them.  Really?  Have I not asked you a million times already?  Do you think I’m going to change my mind and one day just not care?  J is a grown-ass man and I am NOT his mother, so why do I have to remind him of this stuff on a daily basis? 

So my darling, J (who reads my blog now!) I don’t want to ask you to move your pants and not leave peanut butter on the counter.  I don’t want to be a nagging pain in the ass all the time.  I want you to want to move your pants because you know that it makes me happy.  Is that really such a difficult concept?