This week, there isn’t much to report. We haven’t accomplished much.
We still don’t have a garden, we still don’t have a shade sail, we still don’t have a storm shelter, Sunshine still hasn’t killed a wild boar…
Next week, he leaves town for a couple of weeks for work, so I’m not overly worried about the grocery bill. If things don’t change once he gets back, then I start worrying.
The current situation is unsustainable. If we don’t get a garden planted, the grocery bill will start hurting really bad. If Sunshine doesn’t kill a wild boar, that grocery bill is really going to hurt.
If we don’t get a shade structure up soon, the electric bill is going to eat our lunch. It’s not even hot yet and the roof units are struggling to keep up.
The storm shelter is scheduled, as long as Mr. B remembers to pay for it in advance. At least that’s one less thing to worry about (well, once it goes in, anyway. There are severe storms predicted for tomorrow which doesn’t sit well with me).
The grass is getting out of control again but we still don’t have a lawnmower. The weedeating that hasn’t been done properly is beyond out of control. All those places that a lawnmower can’t go are starting to get really fucking scary dense with overgrown grass and weeds and bushes. I can’t seem to get the damned weedeaters to crank, so if Sunshine doesn’t have the urge to make himself available to me to help with that part of it, I can’t weedeat the out of control weeds and grass and shit.
Whenever I mention these essentials to him, he always has something else that needs to come first. Like working on the outside of the pink house. Or sticking to a 3-hour workday. Or any number of other things that don’t make our situation more comfortable, affordable, or sustainable.
The rain is coming again, which means he’ll have another excuse not to do the shit we really need to do to make this new adventure a lasting one.
If things don’t start getting done soon, I’ll find a way to take matters into my own hands. I’ll worry about the fallout with Sunshine later. It’s always easier to ask forgiveness than permission from him anyway.