Wednesday, October 22, 2014

In Defense of the Nag

So many wives are portrayed as naggy, bossy women. Have you ever noticed that? I have. And for a long time, I counted myself as the diamond in the rough. The "cool girl" (what up, Gone Girl fans!!) who didn't nag; who gave my husband the benefit of the doubt; who didn't worry about telling Geo what to do because he clearly has made it this far without me.

But it's October. And this is still a thing:

That, my friends, is our Christmas tree from LAST YEAR. And that is our garage. THIS MORNING.

I asked Geo once in January to get rid of the tree because he is a very strong man and has a very nice SUV with a back end that is the same size as a Christmas tree. He carried it as far as the garage before saying "I'll bring it to the disposal place after work." Maybe it's my fault for not asking him WHICH work day he was planning on doing that.

I then reminded him in March that the place stops accepting trees in April, so it'd probably be a good idea to get that tree outta here. I maybe should have told him April of THIS YEAR. Because yes, it's still a thing sitting in our garage.

To be fair, I truly don't care about it. It's not in my way, and despite probably being a fire hazard, it simply doesn't concern me. That's just the way I am, though. If I really cared about getting something done, I'd just do it myself probably. I'm quite self-sufficient and would rather do things my way, anyway. But times are a'changin'. Now I have someone to split duties with, and I need to take better advantage of that.

Maybe the problem is that I only ask Geo to do really annoying jobs that I don't want to do. But then again, sometimes I'll say something like "Hey, you're going to get water? Can you get my bread carrot sticks too?" and he'll come back with water and one empty hand.

Now, it is very important to note here that I don't take this as a slight. I don't think he's just ignoring me or being insensitive. I think there are certain things men -- sorry, men but I can guarantee this is universally true for every single man on the planet -- HEAR, but don't actually PROCESS. Probably the result of spending so much time listening to people like me complain about an upsetting experience with the salesperson at DSW.

But, Geo says he wants me to remind him to do stuff. He'll say, "Pharon, I'm more than happy to pick up these three things at Target later, but just remind me!" and I'll say "No! Can't you just remember?" He doesn't know that "reminding" him is the same, to me at least, as nagging. So I keep not saying anything and he keeps forgetting. And yes, the other night he came home with nothing but frozen pizza, ice cream and the list of things I needed from Target, but none of the items ON the list.

I can't MAKE someone remember things. I can't FORCE people to stop in the middle of a thing they are doing and think "Wait, did Pharon need something?" even though I, a woman, am completely capable of doing this.

So, basically, I'm trying to convince myself  that I, Pharon Square -- a staunch anti-nagger and person with nothing but 100% confidence in my husband -- will have to start nagging. Except, I'm not going to call it nagging, since Geo doesn't call it nagging, either. I don't like it, but all I need to do is walk out to our garage and see what happens when I don't na-- I mean, REMIND someone to do something.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Knock, Knock

As a work-from-home person, I spend roughly 99% of my days inside my home. I know that probably reads more pathetic and sad than it should, but that's just the truth.

Being alone inside your home a lot makes you into a certain kind of person: a suspicious person. For instance, I've started to get very suspicious about this weird kid who goes out and swings at the playground across from my driveway EVERY SINGLE DAY, multiple TIMES a day for like an HOUR. I have concluded that he is 1) a weirdo 2) the child of a prostitute or drug dealer or something who ALSO "works from home" and is sent outside to play whenever Mom or Dad is doing business or 3) trying to spy on me.

See? I am suspicious of something as legit as a kid playing on a playground.

But what really gets my suspicion up is a random visitor. (See, I live at least 75 miles away from just about every person I know; therefore I'm never prepared to have someone I know show up at my door without warning.) Today, for example, I heard a knock on my door. Instead of just getting up and answering the door, I muted the TV and hid in the kitchen. I thought "I'm not expecting anyone! Stranger Danger! Also: What person in their right mind would KNOCK on a door when there is CLEARLY a doorbell?" I assumed it was a murderer or a robber and hid my wedding rings inside my towel drawer.

After a few mins, the visitor rang the bell. I finally decided that whoever was at the door really needs to see me and is dumb enough not to ring the bell right away, so how dangerous could he/she/they even be?

I cautiously opened the door and saw two very well-dressed ladies with nice lipstick on. Phew! I smiled and opened the storm door. They smiled back and asked how I was. Before I could say "Well, pretty good considering the fact that I thought you were murderers," the first lady said "We want to talk to you about Bible studies."

That's the thing with scary people: They never look like how you'd expect.

Now, I'm not saying that people talking about the Bible is scary. I'm a good ol' Midwestern Christian, after all. But I DO find something very unnerving about people who find it necessary to bombard someone in the comfort of their own home in the middle of the day. The Jehovah's Witnesses have been making the rounds here lately, too. They send a couple pre-teen boys who should be MUCH more scared about knocking on strangers' doors than they appeared to be when they knocked on mine.

At the end of the day, I think it all comes down to one fact: I might be a borderline paranoid shut-in.

Okay, that might be a titch melodramatic. But who knocks on someone's door unannounced anymore? It's, like, downright RUDE. The normal thing to do is text or email with some sort of warning and ask for permission. Even the antiquated Post Office emails me to tell me that someone will come by today and leave a package at my door. They don't knock/ring the bell and insist I put on pants to make an in-person appearance.

Coming to my house without warning is a surefire way to ruin my day. Chances are I haven't brushed my teeth, may or may not have pants on, am busy watching Saved By the Bell on Netflix and don't want anyone to know that, or I'm simply sitting in the middle of an incredibly messy house and would rather give up carbs than let anyone inside.

I guess when you really break it down, the reason I don't like someone showing up at my door is the same reason I don't answer phone calls from strange or blocked numbers. If you don't know me well enough to identify yourself before I have to talk to you, I will immediately assume you are trying to murder me and/or sell me something. Both are super mean and both are perfectly good reasons to not answer.

In closing, times are a-changin'. It's no longer quaint or friendly to stop by someone's house unannounced. Unless, like, a person is not answering their phone and never showed up to work. Then by all means go on over. But otherwise? Consider me: Hiding in the kitchen ready to call the cops.