Regularity, and what Jesus would do

Several people made comments today about how great it was that it was Friday. The Mazda shuttle driver kicked it off first thing this morning (had to leave the Big Blue Devil at the dealer for her first oil change and to finally get her pinstripes), then most of the faculty felt the need to comment on it throughout the day. It wasn't until late this afternoon, while chatting with our off-duty police officer, that I realized that it was an ordinary week. A plain old ordinary week.

No security threat.

No snow.

No lawsuit.

No crisis media training.

No trial.

No teachers fired for inappropriate tweets.

No nastygram emails from unprofessional colleagues.

No major events.

Just a lot of good, hard work and plenty of laughs. It was so refreshing. I got a lot done, cleaned out my email, cleaned off my desk. I was able to chat with the folks who stopped by just to chat, which includes a choir monk with cognitive issues who is sweet as pie but is also a total time suck and an alumni mom (who is over-involved with the Abbey but whose heart is in the right place so I don't mind, who is also a total time suck). I could work with my door open because the maintenance guys fixed my HVAC and I can actually control the temperature in my office, as opposed to trying to warm up the room with my space heater. I went to mid-day prayer, and this morning attended the all-school Mass, at which Father D resurrected the old "What Would Jesus Do" saying and pleaded with us to really think about that as we go about our day. Would Jesus play Candy Crush with us? How about Grand Theft Auto? Would Jesus go to a party?

After piano lessons and the fish fry tonight, I came home and got everything ready to tackle the budget tomorrow. This is about my most least favorite thing in the world to do. I would rather go to the dentist or scrub all the toilets or clean 500 litter boxes than work on the budget. In fact, the list of things I would rather do than work on the budget is infinite. I put it off and put it off, and now I have to finish January and do February and most of March. I recognize the need for the budget, and I appreciate M's attempts to make me fiscally aware and engaged with our finances. I finally, after many years, actually understand how his damn spreadsheet works, but I would still pay cold, hard cash for someone else to reconcile it every month. And by reconcile I mean just do it, without asking me 500 questions that make me scour the Discover card statement and the checkbook. Just do it and tell me we are either okay or flat busted broke. I can learn enough from that. I think it's fair to say that I appreciate the budget while also harboring the most extreme kind of hatred for it. This is not something that has gotten better with time. In fact, I think my abhorrence has only grown. I f*cking hate doing the budget.

I have pleaded with my dear husband on the grounds of dividing up the work equally. I manage all the mail, pay all the bills, balance the checkbook. I make all the deposits and organize all the receipts. I handle all of Zoe's school paperwork and pay her various fees, which could be a full-time job by itself. I gather all the tax paperwork together every single year. For the love of God could he please just take the damn budget, at least for awhile? No go, he answers. Apparently after 16+ years he thinks I still have learning to do, which pisses me off to no end considering this is from the man who changed about half of one poopy diaper, complaining the whole time, before declaring that he had mastered it and therefore needn't ever change one again. And then pretty much refusing to do it any more. I think I'm done learning now, thanks. (Add "change poopy diapers" to the list of things I'd rather do than reconcile the budget.)

What would Jesus do? Hmmmm. Mark 12:17 says, "And Jesus said to them, Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's."

Hey Caesar, guess what? You're getting your budget back! Jesus told me so.