First, Blue�s alarm clock (a/k/a the coffee maker) went off at 5:30am. (What in the hell is up with going to work that early? The man runs his own company, and currently doesn�t even have any employees in this local office � it�s just him and his work. What�s wrong with the man that he wants to get to work before 6am? Ugh.)

It was time for me to get an oil change and have the tires rotated, so instead of grumping and trying to get back to sleep, I got up and made Blue breakfast � then read the paper and ate my own breakfast (Rice Krispies with sugar sprinkled on top � not my finest or healthiest meal choice but yum).

I drive an Aviator (Lincoln) � the dealership opens at 7am. So I headed out at around 6:30am, thinking that I�d get there just before it opened and slide in for my oil change and be done, lickety-split.

When I got to the dealer at 5 minutes before 7am there were four frigging cars ahead of me. All Towncars. All driven by old people. (�I assume these old men all had prostate issues this morning and that�s why they�re up at the crack �� I said to Blue in an SMS as I waited for the dealer to open.)

So I was the fifth person to get their car checked in, which meant I was the fifth car to be seen, which meant that my �done in less than 45 minutes� hopes and dreams were dashed.

I sat in the waiting room with the old folks (I am too young to own a Lincoln, people � seriously too young) and I listened to them do the old-people-bitching while I waited for an update on my car and played Solitaire on my phone. Some overheard snippets of conversation amongst the octegenarians include:

�I usedta be able to put a carburetor together and fix an engine myself. Now these dad-gum cars are so chock-full of computers I�m afraid to open my hood.�

�Did you hear about those Texas football players that ran afoul of the law? In our day kids weren�t like that. These parents don�t know how to raise kids these days.�

�Hoo boy, it�s cool out this morning. I like to have worn a jacket �cept I�da been embarrassed to be seen in one.�

And so on.

The discussion about parents-don�t-raise-their-kids-right-anymore really really grated on my nerves � I sat there rubbing my pregnant belly and struggling to keep my mouth shut. I was able to stay out of the conversation, thankfully.

Finally, my car was ready. I got in it, drove about 100 yards, and the �CHECK TIRE PRESSURE!� light came on.

So I drove around the block (which took 10 minutes, because traffic at this point was getting sucky, because my oil change took so long because there were so many frigging old people at the dealership ahead of me) and went back to the dealer.

They took my car away to check things out and I had to go back in the waiting room and sit with the old people again.

Blue kept sending me �hahaha� text messages, which didn�t help make the time pass faster in God�s Waiting Room.

The car was finally done and I was able to come home.

My plan this morning after the oil change was to pick up cat food from the vet on the way home (done) and then get ready to start painting the baby�s room.

I moved some stuff around in the baby�s room, got all of the pictures off of the walls, and spackled all of the holes I needed to spackle.

Blue came home at that point (it was about 10am) to change clothes � he had a lunch meeting and wanted to look a bit snazzier than his blue jeans norm.

I said to him, �At some point today will you help me get those wall anchors out of the walls in the baby�s room? I took down the old fugly curtains and curtain rod and stuff, and now we have to get the anchors out so I can spackle and paint over them.�

�Well why aren�t you putting those curtains back up?�

�Because they�re blue and really ugly. They won�t go at all.�

�Well it�ll look like shit without curtains,� he said gruffly.

Sigh.

I never said I wasn�t putting any curtains up. I said I wasn�t putting those curtains back up. Fact is, we have two differing philosophies about curtains. He likes them, I don�t. They�re on about half of the windows of the house, along with miniblinds. I, personally, like the blinds-only look. Cleaner. Classier. Whatever. He grew up with curtains and doilies and shit in his mother�s house, so his preference is for frilly junk. Just a difference in taste.

However � here I am, making all of the efforts to do the work (I�m six and a half months pregnant UP A LADDER, for god�s sake, cut me some slack) and he�s not even sugar-coating his preferences.

You know, I�m so easy to get along with. If he were to say, �Could we please put some curtains up in that room? They make things look so much warmer and I�d really enjoy having our daughter�s room be curtained �� I would fucking melt and I�d run out and find some curtains that match the bedding and the walls and put them up with gusto.

But when he (or anybody) doesn�t bother to take the time to sugar-coat things or stroke me a bit � when you tell me that my preferences WILL LOOK LIKE SHIT � well, I become obstinate and angry. And then sullen and depressed.

I have no problem having differences of taste. I have a problem when my tastes are compared to shit. (When, quite frankly, his taste is shit. Ha.)

I believe the man was having a stressful morning � He almost never talks like that, and certainly not to me. But he did today and I was annoyed.

I was so annoyed (and then angry and then sullen and depressed) that I stopped working on the room and retreated to the bed where I took a three-hour nap.

Then I got up, ate junk food for lunch (we�ll just see how long I stay in the no-weight-gain category) and then got to work.

Blue called and apologized for being mean about the curtains. I accepted his apology but didn�t really feel that accepting of it.

I painted for about 3 hours this afternoon. I merely cut in with the brush all the way around the top of the walls. The work I�ve done looks okay. Unfortunately, I�m painting over a really fugly yellow color, and the previous owners did NOT do a good job of painting. So there are splashes of yellow where there shouldn�t be, and it looks like crap. I was going to just paint the walls and not to do the trim, but now that I�m taking closer looks at the trim I think I�m going to have to paint it. Or it�s going to look like crap with all of the yellow drips and stuff.

Ugh.

Now I�m tired.