I leave lettuce ends in the fridge. I love to snack on romaine and will nibble on a head, put it back, grab it back out, put it back. I don't even cut the leaves off; I just gnaw right on it. So there are usually half-eaten lettuces in our refrigerator. Literally half eaten food just sitting there. That's the kind of thing that would drive me bonkers.
I hate making the coffee. But I loooove drinking coffee. Morning = coffee for me, but every night I put on my small voice and say, "Husband, would you mind making the coffee?" Because I don't like grinding it or washing out the filter or any of it. I like coffee to emerge fully formed in my cup like pegasus springing from the neck of Medusa. I don't want to know any more about it.
I'm always putting his drinking glasses in the sink whereas I leave coffee mugs hanging around like they're glued to the countertops. (I'm like that ghost on the original Being Human.) And the worst part is I get all huffy about it, like why did he leave this here instead of putting it in the sink, ugh! Then he comes into the kitchen, scans the surfaces, and asks where his water went. Oops.
I have horrible taste in television, 90% of the time. Let's watch all the classic Star Trek! No wait, the classic Star Trek cartoon! Let's watch a history of Hitler's secret occult mega weapon! Let's why a documentary that says Jesus existed and then immediately watch one that says Jesus was totes fake. Sleepy Hollow. And mostly what we watch in the evenings is my choice and my choice alone.
I do all the things. Dance two nights a week. Monthly wine nights. Mom's night out. I take on more work when I'm already swamped. I commit to this and that and every other social event as a family without asking him first. I'm like, hey, we're going to throw a party! I should probably discuss these things with him more.
But then I probably won't. I'm pretty sure I have always been this frenetic so it serves him right for marrying me. (Ha, ha, sucker!)
So, uh, thanks for not considering me a total WTF, honeybuns!