Dear Diary

Once again I take pen in hand to record my innermost secrets. My wife went away for a long week-end and I was released on my own recognizance. The initial excitement was exuberating. While she was off performing corporal works of mercy and evangelizing…I envisioned doing all that stuff I had postponed until I had some free time. Now I was free, I was totally free to do whatever I wanted and would not be bothered. I could write…I could write some profound prose or compose a heart wrenching sonnet that would purse the lips of lovers for all times, or I could clean the garage.
The first day, after getting her packed up and on the road, I decided to take a nap before doing all that exhausting stuff I had been saving up. After several failed attempts to get off the couch, I decided to take a sick day and really get rested up good before starting my manic marathon. As night fell I finally got up, took a shower and went to bed.
The second day I overslept and missed my Five A.M. Friday appointment with the Blessed Sacrament. I drove across town in the rain and made 6 AM Mass, listened to the priest, who told of King David not being satisfied with all the wives he had…but wanted Bathsheba. He told all David did to make that happen…not good. Father reminded us about the human condition that is never satisfied…always wanting more or always wanting better. I made a mental note to myself…Dear Lord; today help me to be satisfied with whatever you send my way.
I ran into a friend and we sojourned to the coffee shop (myself…not old enough to drink coffee…had hot chocolate). We spent the next hour solving the world’s problems.
Returning home I positioned myself in the standby mode waiting for a customer to call with a problem but hoping I really would not have to go out in the cold and rain. During my moments of consciousness I spent equal amounts of time staring at the TV and looking into the refrigerator. It occurred to me that I might require a bit more supervision and I should not be left in charge of deciding what to do with my spare time. Another day passed without accomplishing anything.
The next day I was up at the crack of dawn and made some nachos for breakfast and washed them down with a grape soda because I was out of beer. Realizing my supervisor was scheduled to return home, I ran through the house flushing toilets and making sure the seat was in the down position. I pulled up the bed covers and threw the 8 million pillows onto the bed hoping to hide the less than perfect job. I vacuumed the crumbs from the couch and jammed all the dishes into the dishwasher. Done!!!. I can’t understand why she complains about cleaning house and that it takes all day…it’s a 15 minute job.
Well! I learned something about myself. I prefer being told what to do and when to do it. In this land of the free and home of the brave perhaps too much freedom is not such a good thing.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for a super wife and supervisor who holds my feet to the fire. Who could want for more?
Amen