much ado about nothing

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

How is it that I have managed to do absolutely nothing in the past four hours that I've been home? My day off from work has turned into a day off from life.

My grand plan for cleaning the apartment, going to the dry cleaners, and trying a new recipe for dinner quickly fell by the wayside the minute I turned on the TV and settled into the couch.

My husband will be home in approximately one hour and we will begin the usual "Marisa's Day Off" song and dance. He will ask me, sarcastically, what I did today. Nothing, I will say defensively, and with a hint of entitlement in my voice. Nothing? he will ask, in mock surprise. And then he will smile and shake his head, in an effort to make me feel guilty for piddling away the gift of time which I have been given. I will stand defiant, defending my right to enjoy my day off in whichever way I see fit.

And then I will start to feel a teensy weensy bit of guilt creep in, my conscience feeling slightly remorseful for time not-well spent. So I will secretly promise myself that next time will be different. I'll be disciplined! I'll be accomplished! I'll show him!

Maybe I still have time to make the bed.