Tuesday July 10 More politics - fundraising with the city council guy

When I got home from work, there was a politician in the living room - which we almost never use because it's either too hot or too cold in there most of the time because we have the heating and a/c shut off in there because if we didn't, our electric bill would be about a million dollars a month. It was one of the guys on the city council, meeting with Primo and talking about campaign stuff.

I thought it was boring, so after I offered City Council Guy something to drink, I left.

That's when I noticed that the bedroom door was closed.

We don't keep the bedroom door closed.

I opened it. Primo had closed it because he never made the bed today.

I guess I am glad that at least he closed the door.

He later informed me that CCG has offered to host a fundraising party for Primo at his house.

Which is cool with me because that's a house I don't have to clean. And probably wouldn't have happened if City Council Guy had seen the messy bedroom.

Then Primo informed me that Samantha and some of his other helpers are coming here for a meeting on Thursday.

"I won't be here," I told him. "I have a meeting at the library that night."

He said nothing.

"So that means if you want to feed them anything, you'll have to get it or fix it or whatever."

He said nothing. I think he was in shock.

Ha. That's what he gets. If I have a job that has me out of the house until 6:30 in the afternoon, I don't have time to play wifey.

Unfortunately, what it also means is that I won't have time to clean the house before they come. Thursday - Before Job - was my normal cleaning day. By late Thursday afternoon, my house sparkled. Sheets washed and changed, bathroom cleaned, floors vacuumed and washed, cat hair removed to the extent possible.

Now, the house will stay dirty until the weekend. And I will spend 1/4 of my free weekend time cleaning.

On Thursday evening, my house will look about as bad as it ever looks.

And there will be several Polka Dot women here.

Looking at my dirty house.

Whom will they judge?

Not my Polka Dot husband, but me.