That Time of Year

Tis that time of year where I start questioning just why the fuck did I get married. I see and hear about other couples that spend the weekend working out in the yard or cleaning up the house together. Me? That is a special occasion. None of my projects get done around the house the house in less than 2 years. Everybody else always has the hand of the hubby. When it is time for my projects, then guess who's here to help?

It's also farm work time. I know that eventually I will be owning that thing and it's what brings sanity to the hubby. I just can't seem to help feeling a bit selfish of there is shit that needs to be done around here.

I'll say that I wasn't the most pleasant person this morning before he left. I demanded the check book and really wasn't all that sweet. I'm sure I'll blow up at him when he gets home. This is now count number 2 for the weekend where he pissed me off beyond belief. I must be pms-ing. I'd say maybe it's baby on board but why would I get that satisfaction? I'm not that lucky.