Running around first thing in the morning

I was hoping I didn't have to run around this morning, first thing.

I had to run around this morning first thing.

Why?

Oh....I could go on.

The gist is the difference between men and women. Or more precisely, between him and me.

I am the kind of person who wants things to run smoothly, and without stress or the potential for delay.

He is the kind of person who either relies on someone else to deal with the details, or then waits until the last minute to get something organized or done.

The fact that less stress would appear in both of our lives with a little bit of advanced planning seems lost on him.

Case in point.

Nick, our duct guy, said on Thursday he was coming by Saturday morning early, like 8 am, to finish up a couple of things and to collect the money.

He's been on time and proactive in getting the work done, and I believed him.

Besides, I like early.

So Friday afternoon arrives and there is a big fat last paycheck sitting in our mailbox from hubby's previous job. Attached to the paystub there is a printout of how the calculations were arrived at.

I ask hubby to give it a read through so I can deposit the check and take some cash out to pay Nick on Saturday morning.

I even open the paperwork for him and leave it in a place where it is not likely to be misplaced.

For some reason, between that moment and the moment we leave for a dinner invitation, there was no time to deal with it. Although I suggested that getting it done prior to leaving for dinner might be the proactive thing to do since the bank is on the way to their house.

But it didn't work out that way.

We come back from dinner and I handle the toddler's bedtime. I remind hubby, prior to turning in myself, that maybe he could review the paperwork prior to going to bed so that one of us can do the bank run and have enough cash on hand for when Nick shows up.

At least sign the check so I can deposit it first thing.

Nick did say he would get here early.

Saturday morning, I notice the paperwork still in the same place.

While hubby's priority is to figure out why the newspaper wasn't delivered on time, I ask him to review the paperwork since Nick is coming early.

Hubby isn't too interested, but reluctantly starts reviewing the papers.

I'm standing in front of him with my jacket on, keys in hand, and he says "I'd be surprised if he shows up at 8".

Hm.

Apparently hubby's plan is to go to the appliance store at 9 when they open and do the bank run at the same time. He is convinced that Nick won't show up at 8.

At this time it's ten to eight.

I say "we need X amount of cash to make up the difference, and if you are not ready to deposit the check, I need to move money from the line of credit into the account so we'll have enough to withdraw for Nick".

Whatever. He's not stressed about it.

I'm getting stressed about it.

I take off my jacket, continue feeding the incessantly noisy child breakfast, and pour a second cup of coffee.

I'm just about to sit down with my own breakfast when the dog starts barking like a maniac.

Can you guess who's here?

So hubby goes down to talk to Nick in the basement, and I run around looking for the check, follow hubby downstairs, make him sign the back of it, run back upstairs, pile more food on Ben's plate, order him to stay seated while I run to the bank, yell downstairs to hubby that the toddler is alone upstairs, drive 3 minutes to the bank, do the banking, come back, count out the total amount of cash we need to pay Nick and make notes as to who got paid what amount on what date.

Then I leave the envelope at the side door and come to the computer to blog about this.

My question to myself is this: WHY does it have to be this way?? Who exactly is stressed now? Me, or hubby?

It frustrates me to no end.

But, I have to keep telling myself that this is how it's been for eight years, and likely it will not ever change.

But neither will I.