June 02, 2010

My Self-Imposed Work Stoppage

I've been a slacker of Olympic proportions lately. Since the morning of May 15, I've purposely given up the reins of domestic leadership at the Cleaver Compound. I have cooked very little, and cleaned even less. I've napped a lot, and goofed off far more than is prudent.


Oh, have I mentioned that I napped? Tensions have been high (at least for me), and sleeping an entire night has been impossible, so naps were the best I could do.

I was hoping to replicate the results of work stoppages in other countries - you know, where the national government realizes that their regime is not acting in the best interests of its citizen-workers, and bad legislation is overturned?

As an example (from 2008):

Across the Paris region, more than 3,000 taxis went on strike, according to police figures, and hundreds converged around midday on Porte Maillot, near the La Defense business district on the capital's western rim.

Later in the day, a leader of a national taxi drivers' union declared the dispute over after meeting with an adviser to Prime Minister Francois Fillon.

"The conflict between the 55,000 taxis in France and the government is finished," said Alain Estival, adding that the government had agreed not to take up proposals opposed by drivers.

You can read the entire news story here.



I now realize I am NOT a French cabbie, or a Polish mineworker. The French dispute was over in ONE DAY, and the cabbies got their way.

The results of my attempt to get my way make my feelings known?

The ruling authority here has not budged, my demands desires have not been met. Nobody has felt the need to step in and clean up this sty (and make it look better than if I did it). During my strike, The Mister did take over the cooking, cleaning and laundry duties in his own inimitable style.


By 'inimitable', I mean NOT THE WAY I'D DO IT.

All I've got is a helluva messy house to contend with...and the best looking fingernails I've had in ages. 

As far as I'm concerned, we still haven't resolved our differences from the 'event that must not be described here' , it's just that I don't think I can sustain this level of polite indifference (and the filth in the kitchen) anymore.


Here's to the end of the hostilities and my heartburn.


Think of my dish towel as my white flag of surrender.

How do you deal with things when you have reached a domestic stalemate? 

6 comments:

  1. Pretty much the same way. You make a stand and brood about it until you can't stand the mess anymore. Glad you enjoyed your lovely fingernails for a while! ;D

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  2. Our marriage is perfect and we never have such problems... Sorry just gagged on my own vomit a bit. I get VERY quiet and pouty and my hubby ignores it. Match made in heaven... right? ;)

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  3. I remember when I was young, my mom got so pissed off at my dad that she didn't talk to him or us kids for 3 weeks. 3 WEEKS. I could have never have gone that long. Of course, today, being a mother myself. If I was mad at my hubby, I would still be talking to my kids. She must have been pretty pissed off, is all I can think.

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  4. I'm big on the silent treatment ... but I always crumble and then we work it out somehow. And Mr. Jenners would say I seem to be a on a work stoppage all the time.

    I hope things resolve themselves too.

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  5. Temper tantrums work well but everybody wants clean underwear.

    I choose passive/aggressive path. Not prudent but you asked.

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  6. A friend of Hubby's told him one time that his wife was mad so she wasn't speaking to him.

    Hubby laughed and said he only wished HE had that problem. Because when HIS wife (that would be wordy, emotional me!)was mad at him she NEVER stopped "speaking" to him!

    What has worked best for me (in 45 years of marriage)when there has been a very, very important stalemate that I felt I absolutely HAD to win, was drowning him in words, tears, tantrums and slammed doors. In other words, giving him no peace. "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Of course, I am in no way saying that that kind of behavior was a plan -- because that would just seem wayyyyy too manipulative. But it worked (most of the time). :)

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