I finished unpacking the apartment last night. Cleaned the cabinets. Organized the fridge. Made an attempt to hang pictures until I realized that the hammer was missing. Did a load of whites. Organized our "important papers" folder. Debated assembling our bookshelf since I killed the other one in the assembly process, but figured I should obey the "Don't touch the bookshelf" mandate set in place before Seth left.
Desk supplies and books are all that's left to be done, organized into clean piles in the living room. Tonight was meant for a pedicure, manicure, facial and bubble bath. Tomorrow = the Southern Charmer returns!
And then Seth called.
Seth says: I can't come home until Sunday because the weather is going to be bad around the Great Lakes on Friday, so I can't leave until Saturday.
Amy hears: I have to spend another night alone listening to the scary noises in the apartment.
I have to try out a new parish by myself on Sunday morning.
The bookshelf isn't going to get assembled until Sunday, so the apartment won't be completely unpacked until Monday morning.
The pictures won't get hung until Monday because Seth has the hammer.
We're not going to have our dinner and a movie cuddlefest on the couch Sunday evening.
Amy says: [In disappointed, but understanding of safety first voice] Oh. Okay.
Seth hears: You think that I'm not leaving tomorrow because I want to spend more time with my friends and now you're mad at me.
Amy thinks: Perhaps if you'd worded your statement, "I'm really sorry but I won't make it home until Sunday now because the weather is going to produce some poor driving conditions on Friday. I know you were really looking forward to spending some time together on Sunday and finishing up the apartment."
Instead, Amy says, "Grrrrrr!"
Attempts to call Seth back three times.
Gets no response.
And Amy starts out her morning feeling very much the "Grrrrr!"
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