This morning, overwhelmed by (A) having to venture to work in the FRIGID cold, (B) that stupid renovation project at our new commercial building that is never ending, and (C) the sixty quadrillion things that we still need to do to get ready for Christmas, Hubby came up with a fantastic idea *insert sarcasm here*.
He said, "You know what we should do? We should sell everything we own and buy that little cottage that's for sale down the road. We'll totally simplify our lives...we'll burn fire wood! We'll live off the land!
Yeah. OK, Grizzly Adams.
So, I looked at him---Mr. Metro sexual who walks around the house in Ugg slippers---shook my head and said, "That is ridiculous. Seriously. You want to live off the land? You---who wants to THROW up when you watch me pull the skin off a chicken? You---who can't live without power tools, satellite radio, or high speed Internet? Dude! They don't have those kinds of things ON THE LAND. ON THE LAND, they rough it...They kill their own food...grow their own vegetables...milk their own cows. Do we look like we belong on Little House on the freakin Prairie?"
He thought about it for a split second (as he was staring at his big mutha television and his beloved Tivo box---which, BTW, they don't have ON THE LAND, either), nodded his head in agreement and said, "You're right. Screw that shit."
Yeah, I thought so.
Back to the rat race, it is!