Despair

As I type, it is nearly 10pm, and I am sitting down after my evening routine to unwind and relax before bed. Ben is snoring in the recliner next to me. In about 10 or 15 minutes, I anticipate that he'll awaken to begin his evening routine.

The two of us are so dramatically different in how we handle our post-dinner agendas that its a wonder we speak to each other at all after the hour of 6pm or so.

I am hardly the model of achievement, but for my part, I have to get my stuff done - and the earlier the better. I can't stand having my task list for the evening weighing on my mind. It is just too much pressure. Kids in the bath, dishes done, kids to bed, another load of laundry started (oh my god the laundry is ridiculous, I could drown in laundry in this house), general straightening, trash out for trash night, clothes set out for tomorrow, etc, etc... if I don't get it done early it just kills me.

Ben, on the other hand, prefers to 'catnap' in the evening and then wake up refreshed enough to get his stuff done. Like last night, for example, he had to go out to Menards to pick out the sink for our new countertops before finishing up the order. So around 7:15 or so I remind him, tell him he doesn't have to wait until after the kids are in bed, he can go ahead and go. He acknowledges and I assume he intends to leave. Around 8:15 or so, he's lying in the recliner. Asleep. The exchange goes something like this:

Me: Ben. Don't you want to go to Menards?

Ben: [incoherent grumble]

Me: Ben. Seriously. It's past 8 o'clock. Does Menards close at 9?

Ben: mm. uh. mmm.

Me. 9 o' clock? Don't they close at 9? As in, you don't have enough

time. As in, get your lazy @!@* up...????

Ben: mmuhnmm . Leave me alone.

Me: So you're not going to Menards.

Ben: I'm going. Leave me alone.

Me: Okay but don't you think you should go now?

Ben: I'll go when I go. Leave me alone.

Me: Fine but it just doesn't seem like you're going.

And so on. I positively drive him crazy, but in my defense, I justify it in my own mind by saying that I'm doing it for his own good.

He is the embodiment of the ever-so-eloquent Despair, Inc. demotivational poster currently hanging in my basement:

On the flip side, I fall asleep when we watch movies like its my job. It drives Ben nuts. But, I mean, it's night time. You can't yell at someone for falling asleep at night time, right?