Behind the jelly, a little jar of love

Since returning home, I'm struggling with a few things. How does a person stay focused, productive, and contributing to the family without a job? A friend said to me, " You can be focused without a job." That's intriguing. Work is a place to hide from feeling that overall I am not fully present and accountable in my own life. And that's how I feel. A lack of being present day to day in creating my own happiness. I'm mulling it over. It's a puzzle.

Meanwhile, using my blog for humiliation and revenge actually makes me sort of happy and present in my own life-- I might be on to something.

This morning, Chip and I had one of those fights that only long marrieds can have. A fight that escalates quickly based on long held prejudices about a partner's habits.

"Where's the creole mustard? Did you throw it away?" (deflated overly dramatic shrug)
"Maybe. There were some mustards and other things from summer in there that had black spots."
"I just opened that mustard. Creole mustard is full of black spots."

OH, he did not just go there, did he? He's going to tell me what mustard seeds look like? "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't know what creole mustard is, sonny jim. You'd be married to some boring yellow mustard girl and never know the spicy, sexy side of life, the one I've created for you with my magical Zatarain's ways...how dare you, sir!"

OK, I do like to throw away marginally edible food, always have--and I admit I may be a bit hasty sometimes. I am a little paranoid about food spoilage. Partly inherited from my own mom's fantastical worry about old food, partly from watching two sisters at Boston Children's Hospital go into kidney failure from food poisoning. But no matter, and I think most people would agree, black mold spots constitute some sort of action that does not involve sticking the knife in the jar and spreading them on one's sandwich.

"Mustard thrower outer!!"
"Mold eater!!"

Is my regular life blogworthy?