No Flowers in My Attic

A few days ago I began working on a project. This project required that I find some of the cords and accessories to an old computer that has been sitting on the floor in our office for months.

Despite the fact that he is a Virgo, my husband is the biggest slob known to man. He knows this. He admits this. And he does try to be neater. But his efforts to be neat are sometimes more annoying than the messes he leaves behind.

Case in point:

After lugging out the old computer, and hefting out the old monitor, I realized that both were missing power cords. And I couldn't find the mouse. And the keyboard seemed to be a thing of the past.

After looking in every box, shelf, drawer, nook and cranny in the office, I did something I never should have done. I ventured into the attic.

Oh the horror! The horror!

It's been months since I was up there. But while I was on my cruise, my husband had done a bunch of work around the house. Evidently, this work involved making large piles of shit and shoveling them into the attic.

I found my power cords, alright. I found them in a tote with about a dozen other power cords. I also found dozens of chargers from who-knows-what, 100s and 100s of feet of cable, zip-loc bags full of printer cables, various mice, keyboards, enough phone cord to wire the Pentagon, and even an entire tote full of just telephones.

I also found the original boxes to every computer we've ever owned.

And it was in one of those boxes that I found my little birdy friend. And he's still up there. I'm waiting, you guys!

Let's see...what else. Oh! Mouse poop. Lots and lots of mouse poop. At least I'm hoping these droppings were left by mice, because I've heard stories of rats in base housing. The nice exterminator man has removed the mice, but not their poop, of course.

This is all in addition to furniture, potties, Christmas decorations, and more household crap than I ever realized we owned. No books though. He got rid of those.

When we are briefed here on base before a deployment, the councilors always tell us not to bother our deployed husbands with household stress, like broken sinks, bad grades, misbehaving kids, and pest problems. But that's not really how our marriage operates.

So, when I had to resort to e-mailing him and asking where the disks for the computer were, I told him point blank, "It's a good thing you're half a planet away or we'd be having the biggest fight right now."

And his response...

"Just don't go near the garage, okay?"

Our garage is a few blocks away from the house. I haven't even been in there since we moved in four years ago. Who thinks I should take the camera and go on a little fact-finding mission?