Forgive me my sins.

Bank Holiday Monday. 7.28am

I'm a terrible husband.
I'm always the first to awake in the house and so I'm sitting here alone with a terrible secret.

I forgot to put the bin out last night.
You may laugh, but that is an unforgiveable crime in this house.
We now have a full bin, the binmen have been, our bin will be mega full by next Monday
I now have to wait for the wrath to descend when she descends sometime later.

Yesterday I finally finished off the coving and hole filling on that panel of ceiling that I replaced above the stairs twelve months ago.
The earned me some brownie points.
But this bin business has nulled all that good work.

I also have to clean the excess weed out of the pond.
That's been waiting for two months to be done.
It wouldn't matter but this house is for sale and the pond is supposed to be "a delightful feature"

I painted the lead flashing above the bay window yesterday too.
That had been waiting for over a year.
That good work will be forgotten over this terrible bin mishap though.

I refused to go any further up the ladder to paint the white wall above Jodies bedroom window though.
I keep telling her that I'll get a professional in to do that.
And then I never do.
And the house is up for sale and the paint is peeling off the front of it.

And we need to start clearing stuff out of the loft.
Putting it in boxes, throwing most of it out at the charity shops
Because we intend to move and the stuff in the loft is still there from the last move
So its not going with us again.
But I can't be arsed
I'll do it when we find a buyer

But when Suzanne wants something doing
She expects it doing within minutes of her mentioning it
So she mentions it over and over and over again until it gets done
She's been mentioning the front of house paintng for over a year now.

The problem is that I enjoy doing what I enjoy doing.
I paint.
I read a bit too
I watch very little TV
I write

And none of that leaves room for being busy around the house
And she says that I'd be happy living on my own
And I probably would
I'd probably be happy being anywhere actually because I just fit in anywhere, don't take any issues with me
As long as I can paint and write and read, I couldn't really give a flying one where I am
Thats how I spent my two weeks in Menorca, sitting on the balcony painting, reading, writing
While everyone else spent time round the pool or on the beach

Ho-hum

I've thought of an excuse.
If I wheel the bin out onto the street now
Before she wakes up
I can say that the binmen must have left it

That might work.