Bad beagles, useless husband

Yesterday, while I'm at work, trying to meet a deadline I can't possibly meet, under heaps of stress, the cell rings. "You won't guess what the dogs ate today" he says. I sooo don't have time for games like this. Finally he says "the kitchen floor". The damn dogs ate the kitchen floor?!?!?! Well, I'm at work, you're at home, you have to take care of this I tell him. Later I phone to see what he did. Cleaned up the mess and moved on with his day. No reprimands, no telling the dogs that this is unacceptable behaviour, nothing. "I was in shock and they wouldn't have known what they did wrong anyway" he says lamely. Bullshit they wouldn't. It's not like they eat the floor every day. I think if you smacked them into tomorrow they'd make the connection with the floor destruction.

Bad dogs and useless husband. That about sums up yesterday. And did I mention that I finally left work around 11:30 and came home to every dish that had been dirtied since breakfast? Again, bad dogs and useless husband >grrrrrr<.

I need that torch to come in. I need the peace that comes with locking myself in a room and just doing something for myself for an hour or two. The zen stillness of watching the glass melt. Hypnotizing myself with the spinning mandrel...