How was your weekend?

How was your weekend?

Whoo, that was a lousy weekend. I argued with my spouse both Saturday and Sunday, my kids were brats, I had a cold, my car broke down, my cat (who shits his weight every four hours) threw up all over the upstairs hallway and I didn't see it so much as felt it soaking through my socks as I walked to the bedroom, and I got nothing done - I felt so terrible I just lied around like a lump watching TV. Even the movies on TV were terrible.

Now it's Monday night. I'm still sick; I endured my hours at work, came home in time to wolf down a mediocre meal, my spouse took off to night school, and I am sitting in my son's room after giving him his bottle, waiting for him to fall asleep. If I make a move towards the door before he is out cold, he'll scream like a banshee. My daughter won't stop bouncing on every fucking piece of furniture in the house.

I've got to say I didn't forsee this future 20 years ago. But realistically, this has only been a few select days. I could always choose to recall my most recent birthday, where my spouse and my daughter made me a fantastic birthday cake with jam in the middle just the way I like it, even though it's not their preference. I then got some really creative and interesting presents, and was showered with affection from both kids. I got to put my feet up, and all evening my "better half" brought me rye and cokes without me even having to ask. That was a good day.

All the same, I'd like to try the lifestyle I envisioned for myself (and started setting up) 20 years ago. I already had the blonde, I just needed the corvette and the cash. Who would have thought the blonde was going to be the easy part back then? I just couldn't seem to ever score the cash and the car. Now I'm approaching 40, I've got the cash (briefly, every paycheque) but I've lost my looks so I can't get the blonde. In fact, I've lost so much of my looks I can't even buy the blonde. Even if I did, I'm pretty sure I would just be happy if the effing nagging would stop for a minute so I could be alone to hack around on the computer. As for the car, I don't even want the Corvette anymore. I dream about mini-vans and station wagons now, so how do I still achieve my young-person's dream?

This is how: I sell the kids on the black market and use the proceeds to put a hit on the ball and chain. That will pay off the house. The I sell the house and buy a winnebago. I tie one end of a long rope to the back of the winnebago and the other end to the damn cat. Then I drive across the country on the life insurance proceeds, banging hick teenagers in small towns by convincing then I'm a Hollywood location scout.

"Wow" you are thinking, "What an ass this guy is. If I were his wife, I'd get as far away from this creep as I could just as fast as I could." There is just one problem with that. Everything you've read above was written by my wife! I stumbled upon her journal the other night. Please save me!