Oh, the weather outside is frightful

Does this look like November to you?

Actually, according to one news station, that temperature on Sunday is supposed to be 80, and on Monday 82.

The "good" news is that the high on Wednesday is maybe going to happen around noon, and then temps will be steadily falling after that. They were saying that on Thanksgiving Day, the highs will only be in the 40s, and it will be rainy and windy.

Now THAT is what I call "Fall Weather." The above forecast would have been rockin', say, the last week of September. Of course, I complain now, but come March I will be dreaming of the warm days of spring... and then it will be cold and miserable. Maybe. I thought this last spring was great, personally. It rained almost every day for something like four months. I haven't been back to the desert in many years, but I grew up there, the first almost-19 years of my life, and so rain is still a novelty for me.

It's just hard to get in a holiday-type mood when it's 84 degrees outside. And when you have no money. But that's another story.

The Other Story

The spousal unit still doesn't have a job. Could it be because he's not looking? Methinks that has something to do with it. Of course, in his mind, it's really my fault because I haven't dropped off the application he picked up and filled out last week. He dropped one off, but it's up to me to get the other to the potential employer. I am more of the opinion that if he was truly serious, he'd fax it to them, mail it to them, or do whatever else it took. Possibly even... hmm... look in other places. It is the holiday season, and many places are hiring workers, and after the holiday season work will be much harder to find. Not that this makes any difference to him, because he really doesn't WANT to work.

He apparently doesn't want to have a place to live or food to eat, either.

But I can't make him get a job. The more I nag, the less he does (not that he's doing anything now). The slowly-encroaching panic I feel also seems to contribute to his total lack of motivation. The more I show that this whole situation upsets me, the more inclined he is to spend his entire day posting suggestive pictures on his MySpace, listening to music on the computer and/or watching movies while not-supervising my children.

Oh boy. This man needs to go away. Far away. Like maybe to his sister's house. That's three hours away. That would be good for a start. He could stay there for like six or eight... years? Eons? That would be even better. If he's not going to be a man and help take care of his family, he needs to move along. I've tried leaving, and I won't put my babies through that again. If he leaves, though, we could get on with things. I know my poor little boy would be happier, that's for damn sure.