In case you thought I was kidding

I've had about enough of this housewife nonsense. I have three things to do today while Ed's off earning the bacon. Sign the lease on a place, take delivery of my car, and take Ed's truck to the dealership to have the sunroof looked at. The sunroof is stuck open, which would be a big problem in DC but here is only a minor inconvenience (Sha-ZAM, hometown bitches!)

So after dropping Ed at work this morning with a kiss, bag lunch, and admonition to play nice, I called the realtor and said I'd love to come over right then and sign the lease. No can do, she's got an open house from 10-noon and another client at 12:30. But she'll try to duck out of the open house and squeeze me in. It's noon and I haven't been squeezed.

My car is going to arrive sometime between 12:30 and 2pm. That sounds nice and definite, until you consider its recent random road trip through Texas, which makes me exceedingly skeptical it'll hit town today, and besides, if it arrives while I'm signing a lease it'll go right back on the truck and make a couple more circuits of the state.

And Ed's car needed to be dropped this morning to be looked at today, but I refuse to be a homeless housewife with no transportation.

So when he says, "Lucy, I'm home! What did you do today?" I'll have to admit that I couldn't accomplish a single thing. Embarrassing. Not only am I a bored housewife, I'm a bad one.