Dingo Fever

I did well for myself, though I can take very little credit for it… Unless credit can be taken for being kind of fussy and reserved and whatever the opposite of proactive might be.

But however it happened, I married a kind of fantastic guy.

My issue is that he’s also kind of conscientious and hardworking. Don’t get me wrong, these are great qualities. We did, after all, buy ourselves a fixer upper, and I do, after all, have a job that pays very little.

However, it’s almost Christmas. And it’s snowy out. And I’m pregnant and sleepy all the time. And I cannot for the life of me convince Carl to call in sick.

Oh no, I say lazily as we wake up. You have pink eye. You have dingo fever. I think I’m going into labor.

So far he just laughs at me.

So I wheedle with lavish promises of Skyrim and movies in bed and comfort food… and while I can see the conflict within, I still come up short.

Logic doesn’t seem to work either, because he put in a ton of extra hours leading up to our church’s Christmas outreach, and he has a 2 week backlog of sick days at work, and our weekends have been crazy full of house projects so he really does deserve a break.

Although today I may have finally crumbled his defenses enough for a little grubby toehold.

Maybe next Tuesday

I am possibly a bad influence, but I’m pretty sure most hardworking humans deserve at least one extra day off in December to bask in the pre-Christmas glow, to lie around eating things and being cosy whilst recharging the batteries.

And yes, I DO realize I should be grateful/shouldn’t make it harder/not everyone gets to…

But if the first rule of blessings is to not try to take credit for them, the second is to enjoy the crap out of them.


When I lived with my parents and worked at the psych hospital, I used to get ready for work while my cat snoozed on the bed. (Actually, whatever I did my cat was usually snoozing on the bed, but that’s a different life lesson). And the first time I thought about it, it kind of annoyed me that I had to go to work while he slept, but over time I apparently went a little batty myself, because I actually started to feel sort of generous and fond about it all. I had to go to work, but it was nice to see Dave lolling around in the sunshine. At least one of us got to.

Some days you’re the human and some days you’re the cat.

Today I get to be the cat. If this seems unfair to you, bear in mind that in roughly three months I will have a newborn that wakes up crying every 2-3 hours. You see? Life is fair.

Enjoy your cat days while you have them, people, and exert whatever pressure you can to bring those you love down to your level. 🙂

I’m pretty sure happiness comes from recognizing and accepting whatever stage you happen to be in. The funny thing is that it can be almost as hard to accept the restful periods as it can be the rougher ones.


2 thoughts on “Dingo Fever

  1. Cat days. I like it. I think right now I’m having deranged hamster days. But somewhere there’s a cozy cat in the sunshine making up for it. And that, as Gandalf would say, is an encouraging thought.

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