HANDLE WITH CARE
One thing is for certain. If you want me to get things done around the house, just piss me off real good and instead of ranting and raving I’ll find something to clean or organize.
So yes, I got pissed off tonight.
I know, I know, a lady shouldn’t use such fowl language. But right now, I declare myself a semi-lady at this time. So bare with me.
The husband said his words, I calmly said mine. We hugged. Said I love you. But it wasn’t over in my mind. So I searched the apartment looking for something to do.
Dishes? No! He cooked, he can clean the kitchen.
Bathroom? No, I’m not that pissed. 
Organize the closet. Yes!
There in the closet was a basket of misc. items of clothing. Little of this, little of that. I have a box started for the goodwill, I’m sure I can find stuff in here to depart from I thought as I dragged the basket into the living room.
Why I needed to be in the living room I haven’t a clue, but that is where I was drawn to.
Basket O’ Laundry
Inside I found my University of Kentucky t-shirt.
I miss Kentucky right now.
I found some shorts that reminded me I have to work real hard this winter so that when summer comes I shall be labeled as a lil lady with no cellulite.
A white sweater that still had wine stain on the wrist sleeve. I can’t depart from this even if it does have a stain. I read the washing instructions…
Handle with care.
Opps too late for that. Done got wine on it!
Maybe I should wear a tag on me when I’m around my husband that says, “handle with care”
Nah, he’d probably just take me to the cleaners, drop me off and wait months to pick me back up.
Hey, there is my Victoria secret bra. It’s not a secret as to where it is anymore! Yay! Not sure why I got so excited about finding it. I can’t wear it. Stupid wire is coming out of it. The last time I wore it, I was certain I was going to have to have the wire removed by a surgical doctor. It went into my side. Digging into my skin. I kept moving it out of my skin and forced it back into the hole it came out of. I’d take a few steps and it came right back out.
Give this to goodwill?
No, I’ll sew it in there so I can keep it. Makes my boobs look nice. Hell any bra makes them look nice, it’s what they look like without one that scares the shit out of me.
(KI thinks: ladies don’t talk about their breast to strangers and apologizes quickly)
I throw a hand towel across the room. It looks used. Needs to be washed.
I hate to think why it was crusty. Lol
Continuing to dig, I find shirts, shorts, jeans, belts…
I even found a garden glove. It is hot pink with John Deere embroidered on it.
Whose is this?
Oh wait, it’s mine.
I had a garden? When?
Oh yeah…I did.
“I had a garden once…back in the day…when I had a life.” I sang out loud hoping Barry would hear me.
Can’t give just one glove to the goodwill. That’s just wrong. I’ll have to find the other one. Maybe I left it at my garden.
There is my Easter dress. The one I searched and worried about. I wanted to find the perfect dress for Easter Sunday. We were doing the 5:30 am service at church with my husbands mother. I wanted to look nice. I worried myself sick trying to make sure I found one that would make me look mature enough for him, but young enough to be fun.
Stupid dress. I showed up and everyone was wearing jeans.
Uh oh..Granny panties. 
Huge granny panties.
I held them up.
High in the air.
As if I was proud and showing the world.
I decided to keep them for emergency panties or as I like to call them…Period Panties. (chum panties)
I stood up and looked at the stuff I had decided to give away to goodwill and was happy with my decision.
I wasn’t pissed anymore with him.
I was pissed cause I need some new clothes.
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