Fuck.
I can't think of a more appropriate title for today's post. Just "fuck." It sums up how I feel 100%.
We have shitloads to do. And no time to do it.
Tonight, the stupid gay rehearsal dinner. And I'm going to have to figure out how to leave work at 4:30 so I have more than 20 minutes to get ready for the damn thing.
Tomorrow, my mom's having us all over for my dad's birthday, which is today. (You can see the video I sent him in honor of the same here.) After that, I'm going to have to rush back to KC, and either Ben or I will have to rush Bob out to Ben's parents' house and then come back to KC for the stupid wedding.
And we're moving in a week.
And I'm applying for part-time transcription jobs, which I'm starting to think I should just say "fuck it" and take a full-time transcription job, quit this shit, and work from home. No more daycare. No more sanity, either. But it seems like every time I turn my head here, I've made some bonehead mistake that comes from having too much shit to keep track of and absolutely no help in that regard from the man in charge. Which almost makes me miss my old job, where I sat on my ass and didn't do dick for 8 hours a day and got paid MORE to do it. (No need to direct me to my old posts, wherein I complain incessantly about how bored and miserable I was there. But thanks.)
And I won't even go into the subtle but significant impact living in transition is starting to have on me. Boxes, boxes, boxes everywhere. Can't find shit, can't walk around shit, can't put shit away anywhere because it's all got to move next weekend. It's got me about to lose my shit.
And of course, in true Bob form, he fell off the monkey bars at Macken Park last night, and hit his cheekbone (just under his eye) on a rung when he did it. Nice, big bruise. And today is picture day. And I didn't select the "airbrush" option. I did try to get a little makeup on him this morning so it wasn't so painfully obvious, but Bob's opinion of all things girly made it less successful than I'd hoped. Now it probably looks like I beat my kid and then try to cover it up with Maybelline. Excellent.
If I leave my old life under my pillow, what are the chances the Life Fairy would show up and give me a new one?
We have shitloads to do. And no time to do it.
Tonight, the stupid gay rehearsal dinner. And I'm going to have to figure out how to leave work at 4:30 so I have more than 20 minutes to get ready for the damn thing.
Tomorrow, my mom's having us all over for my dad's birthday, which is today. (You can see the video I sent him in honor of the same here.) After that, I'm going to have to rush back to KC, and either Ben or I will have to rush Bob out to Ben's parents' house and then come back to KC for the stupid wedding.
And we're moving in a week.
And I'm applying for part-time transcription jobs, which I'm starting to think I should just say "fuck it" and take a full-time transcription job, quit this shit, and work from home. No more daycare. No more sanity, either. But it seems like every time I turn my head here, I've made some bonehead mistake that comes from having too much shit to keep track of and absolutely no help in that regard from the man in charge. Which almost makes me miss my old job, where I sat on my ass and didn't do dick for 8 hours a day and got paid MORE to do it. (No need to direct me to my old posts, wherein I complain incessantly about how bored and miserable I was there. But thanks.)
And I won't even go into the subtle but significant impact living in transition is starting to have on me. Boxes, boxes, boxes everywhere. Can't find shit, can't walk around shit, can't put shit away anywhere because it's all got to move next weekend. It's got me about to lose my shit.
And of course, in true Bob form, he fell off the monkey bars at Macken Park last night, and hit his cheekbone (just under his eye) on a rung when he did it. Nice, big bruise. And today is picture day. And I didn't select the "airbrush" option. I did try to get a little makeup on him this morning so it wasn't so painfully obvious, but Bob's opinion of all things girly made it less successful than I'd hoped. Now it probably looks like I beat my kid and then try to cover it up with Maybelline. Excellent.
If I leave my old life under my pillow, what are the chances the Life Fairy would show up and give me a new one?
posted by Mitzi Green at 8:10 AM
2 Comments:
Damn. I hope things are looking better. I hate those days.
Let me know how the Life Fairy thing turns out ... I may have one to leave under my pillow.
Remember, breathe, this too shall pass
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