Now the problem lies, in fitting all my other responsibilities, into my work routine.

Human beings are wired to always have something to complain or pout about.

Doesn’t matter if you’re the King of Persia or a regular guy with a regular job, one would always want a low profile life and the other would always regret not to have born with royal blood and have lots of millions.

As Michael Bublé said: That’s life (or Frank Sinatra for the previous generation).

So now I’m working from 9 am to 4 pm, arrive at home 20 minutes to 6 pm, put on my rubber gloves and I summon the energy to scrub every place in our house, but if I choose to clean, grocery shopping and poop-scooping our balcony (Buono keeps doing his business even though he knows I don’t have time to clean up after him) have to be left for the next day.

On the other hand, attending my hubby is in my priority list; so if I’m too tired to do anything at home, I just cuddle by his side and harass him the rest of the afternoon, so he doesn’t feel that he’s been left out and I have the perfect excuse not to move a finger.

However, we manage as a team together. He helps with small menial task that in the long run, reduces my available time to do anything else.

Dinner is another issue. Who has time to cook a proper meal when you can’t even see straight, and the recipes gets mixed in your head. I’m opting to freeze some dishes, having an endless load of cereals and sandwich ingredients to get by during the week, and make more elaborated dishes during the weekends.

Dieting is always the best excuse. I always say that we should take care of our weight, and keep the line, when I’m not in the mood to go near the stove.

Having a blog damages all my chances to keep pretexts (because my husband is the first one to read my posts), so if you have some new ideas that I can use from now on, please write.

In the mean time, regards from yours truly.