Day 1.5: The mailman hates me

Because of the nature of my job, I depend heavily on the timely delivery of my mail: UPS, Fedex and the US Postal Service are the backbone of my mini-industry. Whenever I move to a new city, one of the first things I do is befriend my local delivery folk by heavily kissing their asses.

I've lived in my little basement apartment in New Haven, Conn for 2 1/2 months now, and I typically see the same delivery people every day--and they're great, great people. They know I'm always home, which has got to be a pretty cool thing if you're a delivery person, because this means you don't have to lug the damn package back to your truck like every other stop where the person is at work.

I have a new mail man. And I see it in his eyes...he says hello, but I know he's thinking "Dude, every day I have to drive up to your house and knock on your door and wait for you to sign for something....I'm sick of getting out of my van, asshole!"

Well, today he didn't. He left me one of those "Sorry we missed you, now you gotta go to the post office and pick up this package youself, buddy" notices.

Fine. I'll leave my house to go to that tomorrow. But this isn't over. I have ten packages coming next week...I'll be whittling wood, waiting on the porch for you.

Day 1: Where Babies Come From

I work from home. I do the dishes, laundry, and watch the Food Network for recipe ideas (I rarely execute those recipes though. I find them to be pretty over-the-top most of the time--do YOU have fresh fennel in your pantry? Because I sure as shit don't). I pack lunch for my PhD- pursuing wife and make sure she has enough coffee to get through her day. I take my dogs for their morning walk, then I watch Sportscenter.

This is my day. Every day. I am a house husband...and I like it.

Read this blog, and you'll know what it's like to be a house husband. Read this blog, and you'll be required to help me come up with a phrase that's better than "house-husband," because it sounds douchie.

I'm out to prove that topics such as recipes for spicy chocolate cupcakes and whether Mike Vick's $100 million contract is justified can be discussed on the same blog.

I am house-husband: Hear me bake.