Andrew and I are hosting our first guests in the new house tomorrow. I am scared shitless. I don’t really know why.
Okay I do, but it’s stupid.
First, it’s my husband’s best friend. Which means I still feel like I have something to prove. Like, I feel I need to be this perfect wife/hostess so his friend won’t hate me. Stupid, yes. I know the women’s movement happened, but for whatever reason (I blame the patriarchy), I STILL feel like I need to be little Ms.
Suzy Terra Homemaker. Which I’m not.
Don’t get me wrong – I love my house. I love cleaning it and finding new stuff for it and getting it all set up and me-afied, but I am not the hostess type. I’m just not good at it. I don’t like waiting on people. At all. It’s just not in my nature. Get it your own damn self.
Sure, I can fake it. But faking it kinda sucks.
Plus, I really don’t want to be domesticated. That’s not a word I would like to use to describe me ever because I am not a dog. A bitch sometimes maybe, but not a dog.
Second, I have gotten in the habit of peeing with the door open. Judge me all you want, but come on, you probably do it too and it’s just not something you can do with guests in the house. So tomorrow night, when I wake up with a full bladder in the middle of the night because I chugged three cups of water like an assface right before bed, I’m going to have to not only drag my sleepy ass out of bed and into the bathroom, but I’m also going to have to close the door. Ugh.
Third, there is still SO MUCH TO DO! We cleaned and cleaned and mopped and vacuumed and GOT OUR NEW DINING TABLE FINALLY, but still. There is SO MUCH MORE than needs to be done. And my new computer came yesterday in all of it’s beautiful 17 inch glory and all I want to do is play with it (did that sound dirty, or was it just me?).