I'm on strike!

Yup, just what I said. I'm on strike this week. Last night, things kinda hit the fan. I'm trying to watch a movie, Memoirs of a Geisha. Yeah, yeah, I've seen it before, but out of the 10 or 12 times I've tried to watch the whole thing, I've only seen the end once. So I keep watching with the hopes that I can see the end again and the whole thing can come together for me.

Not to happen... yet again. First, the Hubby comes up. He promised someone at work that he'd record the NASCAR race from yesterday. (Translate that into the wife will record it for you because I haven't a clue how to do it.) That wasn't the big problem. But he comes upstairs and asks me (while I'm watching, mind you) how I'm going to split the race onto two DVDs since it was 4 hours. I tell him I don't need to do that. I can simply cut out a few commercials and it'll all record onto one disk. But let me finish the movie. I'm halfway into this movie. So he's gabbing and arguing with me that I didn't get the whole race to begin with and I can't do it. And I think to myself that I've seen this part several times, so I can miss a few minutes.

I cut over to the recording of the race. I fast forward to the end of the movie (takes about two mins... gotta love technology ) and I see how, on the last lap, Jimmie Johnson takes out Dale Jr. on the back stretch as he makes his move. Course, it really wasn't Jimmie's fault. It was the guy in third place (didn't catch a name) because he rubbed the back bumper and sent him into a spin which effectively took out Johnson and Earnhardt.

Anyway, I've proven I did get the end of the race. So I start again at the beginning and take 10 minutes to cut out 20 minutes of commercials from the first hour. Okay, they weren't the best editing job I've ever done, but I do it and then set the thing to record onto a DVD. Project accomplished.

So I go back to the movie. Daughter comes into room and starts asking if friends can come over to watch a movie, yadda, yadda. IOW, Hey, Mom, don't care if you want to see what's on. My social life is hanging in the balance here and we don't have school tomorrow. I tell her friends can come over, but they're leaving by 9. After all, both her father and I do have to work tomorrow and I don't want teenagers down in my living room past my bedtime.

So she sulks off into another room. In the meantime, Hubby has grabbed the remote and he's cruising for the channel which inevitably will be showing Crimson Tide and I remind him that I only have 20 mins left of this movie that I'm attempting to watch. Yes, honey, this is a girl version of Crimson Tide in that I can watch it over and over and have yet to see this section. And I can't see a thing because you have the d@mn TV Guide on the screen instead of the movie.

Hmmm.... nothing. No response. He cruises all the channels until he finds Crimson Tide and switches to it so he can simply hit a button and return to it once my movie has stopped boring him. Fifteen minutes to go and he puts down the remote. YES!!!! I'm thinking.

And he hides under the covers and starts playing with the dog. He's making mewling sounds to play and the dog is growling at him.

I spend the rest of the movie listening to them play and knitting in anger like a storm cloud.

Movie is over and he switches over to his Crimson Tide and when I sarcastically thank him for totally ruining the end of the movie, he says that I was knitting the whole time and not paying attention anyway.

ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yuppers. I decided then and there that I'm on strike. No favors. No car. No money. No time. No cleaning. No cooking. I'm going to spend this next week doing what *I* want and let them see how it feels when my life doesn't revolve around their needs and their wants.

Whew! I feel so much better for having gotten that off my chest. I think I'm going to hide the remotes for the rest of the month. Hubby wouldn't know what to do if he actually had to get up to change the channel. He does work hard. He does a lot of physical labor in his job. But, damn!t, I'm tired of him walking into the room and not even asking if I'm interested in the show I've got on. He just assumes that Crimson Tide is more important. Doesn't matter that he's seen it 149 times in the past 6 weeks. He can give the dialogue verbatim. Doesn't matter. We know it's more urgent than anything I've got on the set.

I now understand why couples have separate bedrooms. It has nothing to do with sex or snoring or even the fact that all of the dogs and cats have suddenly decided that our bed is their bed. I think it's all because then each person can have their own remote and not have to worry about someone coming in and decided their program is more important than yours.

Attractive idea if I had anther bedroom... LOL!