Dirty weekday

Andy's just slipped out the door to head to a gig...and now it's my special time in the condo, all alone.  I close the blinds to block out the burning glare of the midday sun...I sneak into my room, and quickly get dressed.  If I wear a bra, I feel like at least I'm capable of leaving the house.

I have nothing today---no work, no job, no obligations.

I check my email, I throw some laundry in and start some handwashing.

I turn on NPR and half-listen to Terry Gross as I do dishes (why does Andy leave the dirtiest of dishes---a pan with dried up omelet residue--a perfect tissue thin egg crepe that sticks in the middle--why his pot full of steel cut oatmeal--why is that dish the one he doesn't clean?).

I make a fresh pot of coffee as I can not tolerate old coffee on a day like this.

I slowly peel my grapefruit as the coffee brews, the smell slowly released as I peel the thin skin and then the inner white layer, making sure not to marr the perfect pink segments.

I prep my special coffee and put my grapefruit on my favorite little plate, turn off Terry and ease myself into the living room.

I switch the cables on the TV to make the VCR go away and the cable start....I see the snow fall in Indy and try to pretend that I am snow-bound to justify this naughty naughtiness.

Andy doesn't like the TV on in the day, and neither do I, usually.

But today, on a Tuesday, when I have no job and no plans...I am going to watch last week's episode of Amazing Race.  Oh so dirty!  And I may throw in The Office!  Or even, a random sex and the city!

I'll do laundry, I'll sort mail and do some household chores...but TV during the day?

I better close all the blinds or someone will see!!!!

Dirty dirty dirty.