As I have described, one of my recurring dreams is about packing to move, and not having enough time.
Last night, I had the dream, only this time Rob was behind schedule too. Not only were we running out of time, but we didn’t have enough room in our bags. “I need another bag or I’m leaving some of this behind,” I said, looking at shelves full of clothes that hadn’t even started to be packed.
Among the things that needed packing were Rob’s T-shirts, which all said “Muay Thai” or “Red Bull” on them in Thai letters. I know where that came from. For several weeks, Rob has had a broken dresser drawer on the bedroom floor. I normally have trouble putting all his clothes away anyway, and last weekend, I literally couldn’t fit them anywhere in our room. I carried them back to the laundry room and set them on a chair, and refused to put any more of his clothes away.
Eventually, I plan to turn our bedroom into a master suite, with a walk-in closet and a jacuzzi bathtub. Can’t do it yet, because I haven’t actually built any equity after just 10 months of mortgage paying. And even with my 1.9 % cost of living adjustment, my debt ratio is still too high. Rob wasn’t too excited about my moving forward with those plans anyway, because they have nothing to do with his plans to build a full-size boxing ring in our backyard.
I’ve come to terms with postponing my master suite dream, except it really infuriated me to watch Rob’s dirty clothes get piled up on the broken dresser drawer. I told him something must be done, and tonight, he came home and announced that he was cleaning everything.
“That looks like crap,” he said, pointing to the “clutter table” in the big room, “The kitchen looks like crap,” which actually offended me because I’d cleaned it 48 hours earlier, but yeah, dirty dishes had piled up again. “The computer room looks like crap…”
And while I lay on the couch watching “Reunited, The Real World: Las Vegas,” he really cleaned up some stuff! And fixed the dresser drawer.