Matrimonial Log – Star Date 5784.260

“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”

There are certain reoccurring household chores that I prefer that I do rather than Señora. I tell Señora that I want to do these tasks as I have a system. Sometimes she even listens.

I will be doing some task around the abode and Señora will ask if I would like some help.  Sometimes I accept her aid, but, not infrequently, I will say thanks, but no thanks, I have a system.

Obviously my system is no more than the OCD part of me needing to do something a particular way.  Whether it is better or not is debatable, but do not tell that to the little monkey riding my back.

Being, ahem, seniors, Señora and I both have regular medicine that we take. We keep our personal stashes in different places. In both stashes are to be found bottles of acetaminophen.  I emptied my bottle of the last two pills the other day.  Since I was running down to the valley to do some shopping I asked Señora if we had any more acetaminophen.  If not I would purchase some.  At first she thought we were out, but then she discovered a brand new container in her stash.

She brought the new bottle into my man cave as I was sitting in front of my computer.  I very gently suggested that she pull the empty pill bottle out of my recycling can that sits next to my desk.  She sat both bottles down in front of me.

I said,  “you could have poured some from your bottle into my bottle.”

“Oh no,” she replied, “I thought you might have a system and need to count them.”

One feature of long term relationships is that sometimes the other person knows you much, much too well.

And for the record, I did not count them… thank you very much.

And so it goes.

“Sometimes anal is good”

We had a minor crisis at work.  I work on the Oracle HRMS system for a utility.  After applying a patch and upgrade we could not transfer the time from the time card system over to the Payroll system.  People like to get paid so we were more than a little motivated to get it fixed.

We gathered together as a team to work on the problem which took more than a few hours to fix.  People were getting somewhat tense.  Programmers as a group are on the OCD side and when we get stressed it tends to bring out this side even more.

Somebody wanted to double check something a different way.  He apologized for being anal, but he said he needed to do this.

I remarked that, “Sometimes anal is good.”

The room all of sudden got real quite.

I realized what I had just said.

Hanging from the back bumper

It is probably not entirely fair to say that Saturday Night Live patterned their character, The Church Lady, after my mother.  It, however, is not too far from the truth.  She is prim and proper almost to the point of being prudish.  Knead in an equal amount of operatic diva.  Sprinkle moderately with essence of OCD, being sure the flakes are evenly spaced.   Add a dash or two of Tabasco sauce.  That would be my mother.

A year or so ago my cousin died and somehow I ended up driving my mother alone to the funeral.  We took her car as she likes neither of my vehicles.  She complains about having to climb into my F-150 pickup.  Alternatively, she gripes about the lowness and smallness of my MX-5 sports car.  So we took her car with me driving.  And of course she has this whole set of rules Continue reading “Hanging from the back bumper”