Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Calgon take me away! I'm having One of Those Days. You know, the bad ones that somehow turn out to last 72 hours? It started yesterday when I went to pick up my meds at the clinic and they tried to tell me it would take 3 days. I had already taken the last of it the night before, I was running late and had to get to a Girl Scout meeting. I just busted out crying. Oh yes, that's always fun, crying in public is one of my favorite things in the world. And why not add that special flavor of CRAZY by doing it in a psychiatrist's office lobby?
So today was my first day off in 10 days. I was burnt out and tired, the house is in shambles because I haven't had time to do anything, and I had a mile-high stack of things I had to get done. First, I slept in til noon. Well, I got up at the usual time and got the kids out the door to school, then went back to bed. That's about 2 hours longer than I had planned. No big, right. Except that Rusty fell asleep on the couch, which meant that I couldn't clean the living room, or do the dishes, or make dinner without waking him up. I had hoped he would wake up when I made my lunch and move the bedroom, but no dice. My chore list just sat gathering dust. I managed to get a load of laundry done, get a trip the grocery store in, get dinner started, bring DD to the store to buy some Halloween decorations, then stop at school and pickup our Market Day order, come back home and finish dinner, feed the troups, and then start the bedtime routine. I was already irritated because every request I made to pick up this or put away that was met with eye rolls and disappearing acts, and I was tired of not being listened to. The kids had already talked to their dad when they handed me the phone. Shitfood loves to talk my ear off sometimes--I guess he doesn't have any friends of his own. So I'm humoring him while trying to move a load of laundry into the dryer and BOTH children are trying to talk to me at the same time. "Everybody SHUT UP! I am doing laundry and talking on the phone, is that not ENOUGH things to do at once???" "What's wrong?" asks Shitfoot. Right. Not 10 minutes later the phone rings. It's Rusty, who's been holed up in the bedroom as if the rest of us have cooties, calling from his cell phone. I pick up. "Booty call!" Ha ha. Yes it's funny. But right now the last thing I need is one more person asking me to do something for them. And sure enough mere moments later both children are crying because they've perceived the evening's events as a clear sign that I don't love them. Now EVERYONE's feelings are good and hurt, and it's my fault because there aren't fucking THREE OF ME. I suck. This sucks. Rrrgh.
So today was my first day off in 10 days. I was burnt out and tired, the house is in shambles because I haven't had time to do anything, and I had a mile-high stack of things I had to get done. First, I slept in til noon. Well, I got up at the usual time and got the kids out the door to school, then went back to bed. That's about 2 hours longer than I had planned. No big, right. Except that Rusty fell asleep on the couch, which meant that I couldn't clean the living room, or do the dishes, or make dinner without waking him up. I had hoped he would wake up when I made my lunch and move the bedroom, but no dice. My chore list just sat gathering dust. I managed to get a load of laundry done, get a trip the grocery store in, get dinner started, bring DD to the store to buy some Halloween decorations, then stop at school and pickup our Market Day order, come back home and finish dinner, feed the troups, and then start the bedtime routine. I was already irritated because every request I made to pick up this or put away that was met with eye rolls and disappearing acts, and I was tired of not being listened to. The kids had already talked to their dad when they handed me the phone. Shitfood loves to talk my ear off sometimes--I guess he doesn't have any friends of his own. So I'm humoring him while trying to move a load of laundry into the dryer and BOTH children are trying to talk to me at the same time. "Everybody SHUT UP! I am doing laundry and talking on the phone, is that not ENOUGH things to do at once???" "What's wrong?" asks Shitfoot. Right. Not 10 minutes later the phone rings. It's Rusty, who's been holed up in the bedroom as if the rest of us have cooties, calling from his cell phone. I pick up. "Booty call!" Ha ha. Yes it's funny. But right now the last thing I need is one more person asking me to do something for them. And sure enough mere moments later both children are crying because they've perceived the evening's events as a clear sign that I don't love them. Now EVERYONE's feelings are good and hurt, and it's my fault because there aren't fucking THREE OF ME. I suck. This sucks. Rrrgh.
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