I'm the kind of person who likes things to go according to some kind of plan. Organization is the key to my daily life. Unfortunately I am living in a place where there are no definite schedules and no one seems to be at all bothered by this (except me). It doesn't make things much better to be married to someone who doesn't seem to care about being organized either.
This is our usual Thursday evening conversation:
Me: What's the bernamij (program) for tomorrow?
Him: I don't know.
Me: sigh . . . Well I'd like to know.
Me: sigh . . . Like what should we have for lunch? Are we going anywhere?
Him: What difference does it make?
Me: sigh . . . Lots of difference. Like, should I plan to cook lunch at home or are we going somewhere? Do I set the alarm clock so we can get six children organized and in the car so we can get out the door in the morning, or do we wake up when ever we feel like it? etc, etc, etc.
Him: No response, just a glazed look in his eyes while he stares at Aljazeera.
I've got a list a mile long about reasons that we need some kind of bernamij to organize the household that I live in. I hate things to be unorganized.
This morning we all woke up when we felt like it. We all ate whatever we wanted for breakfast because I am on strike. I've decided since no one wants to be organized than I won't waste my time trying.
Him: Aren't we going to have something for breakfast?
Me: We have no bernamij.
Him: We could have lunch at the farm.
Me: We have no bernamij and besides I don't like cooking over a fire in the farm. Too much stooping, I end up with a backache and the food ends up tasting like crap.
Some of the kids want to go to the farm, some don't. I get dressed and he complains about what I'm wearing.
Him: You can't wear that to work at the farm.
Me: I don't have a bernamij to work at the farm - I was thinking I would just watch you work so I can wear what I want.
Him: Well I was thinking you would help me.
Me: Sorry, there's no bernamij for that.
I changed my clothes back into something for the house.
Him: Why did you change?
Me: I'm not going to the farm. I'm staying home, you go and have a nice time. And please leave the car keys in case I happen to have a bernamij.
Into the kitchen he goes and gets the fixins for cooking macaroni umbakbaka at the farm. As he's leaving he says 'Don't cook lunch - we'll be home for dinner.'
Now I have the day to myself! This is not a bad bernamij at all!
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