Oct. 16, 2016
I apologize now for missing entries from day to day. Like last night's for yesterday. I worked an eight-hour day, a relatively short one as most are eleven hours. When I got home around 6:30 pm Nick was in the house, on the computer. We chatted for a few minutes about our day and when I announced I should get upstairs and get changed to go out to help him feed the horses because I had some housework I wanted to do before bed, he announced that he hadn't finished shovelling the stalls yet. By this time it was almost 7 pm, but I was flexible and stayed inside to do my housework while he finished in the barn. If I had been in a generous mood I would have quickly jumped into my barn clothes and gone out to help him shovel, however, now that Nick has been retired for about 18 months, I don't feel I should have to help if I have worked that day. I almost always help on my days off. And to be fair, Nick doesn't get a day off from looking after the livestock. (I am sitting here trying to think of a plausible reason why he should do it every day without my help but all I can come with is that I am not in generous moods all that often).
So I went out around 7 to help and by the time I finished vacuuming, mopping, a little dusting and bathroom wiping when I got back inside, it was after 9 pm and I decided to get to bed a little early.
Nick has come upstairs into the bedroom and is standing about six feet away from me now. I am going to shut this down now before I get caught. That wouldn't be good.
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