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Friday, December 8, 2017

My Husband Loves Screwing Around



Sometime this year, we ousted our above ground pool because we never used it as it only gets hot enough to swim one/two days a year up here in the Gold Coast Highlands and the pool filter was escalating the fees incurred from our electricity bill (fancy way of saying our electricity bill was too fucking high).

The elderly lady who lives in the house below us probably wasn’t that impressed with 58000 litres of water spilling into her yard but we let it out slowly and we didn’t hear a peep from her.

I think her house has sunk a bit on one corner and maybe she drowned. Not really sure.

.

We decided to build decking over the resulting cavernous hole and the area is beginning to look a bit like a helipad.

Scotto estimates he has screwed in over 2000 screws so far. 



We don’t really need a helipad, but I’m positive it will come in handy when random movie stars and celebrity millionaires come to visit.

Now, after spending a fortune on timber to build this monstrosity, I suppose we will be expected to have it filled with expensive outdoor furniture.

FML.

I don’t like spending money. It’s the frugal Scottish ancestry coming out in me.

So, while Scotto has been outside in the harsh sun, building the deck and screwing his head off, I’ve been on school holidays and fruitfully employed binge watching Game of Thrones for the fourth time and attempting to replicate Cersei’s hairdos whilst sipping coffee and trimming my fungus infected toenails.

I’m constantly expecting Scotto to burst through the double dividing glass windows with a gold emblazoned screw driver and puncture my jugular in passionate revenge whilst screaming, “I’m the King of the North, why aren’t you working wench?”

But I don’t really feel guilty about him working laboriously whilst I laze around like a fat pig.

I know that each time Scotto hears the theme song of GOT echoing throughout the hallways of our castle after I’ve clicked on yet another episode, he grasps the importance of my ‘down time’ and comprehends that this is just my method of unwinding from a particularly stressful year.

I lie.

I have wasted my entire first week of my six weeks of school holidays, binge watching a very silly fantasy series which I have already watched three times.

What is wrong with me?

I’m sure I’ll break out of this careless and indolent period of hedonism sooner or later.

Maybe… next week.

Maybe.


What should I be doing instead (and please don’t say helping Scotto because I hate anything to do with screwing)?