Hell. Yeah.
What has given me the shits this week?
Well....
I've been at work while the bosses went away, and everything.... I mean EVERYTHING went wrong from the second they left, which was when I walked in.
The barcode printer has a fit. So we couldn't clear the magazines except in very. small. batches. at. an. excruciatingly. slow. pace.
This held up all the boxes of new stock waiting to be invoiced into the system and barcoded.
Which meant the job I was going to finish on day 2 was finally done at the last second on day 6, literally slapping on barcode stickers before i walked out the door at 6pm. I am completely exhausted. FFS.
During my 6 days at work nothing has been done by a single other person in this household. FFS.
Including the days that WonderMan was at home with or without the kids. FFS.
I got so exhausted I was almost passing out by lunchtime, but when I went to bed the nightmares started. The horrifying, my children have been murdered kind of nightmares. They terrified me so much it scares me to go to sleep. FFS.
When I do finally sleep Frog has screaming fits in her half asleep half awake state at 2am about her blanket and how it is not exactly right, and she wants it on and off at the same time. Screaming as in the neighbours probably think I am torturing her, and I can't get her to stop despite soothing, cuddling and outright bribery. FFS.
Frog is two and a half. She has the stubborness of a mule with PMS and the attitude of a teenager. I have to literally fight her to get her clothes on. When I have to be at work at 8:30am this gets old very quickly. FFS.
WonderMan very pointedly demanded "Can you do some washing today so I can have some clean underwear?" As If getting up at 6am, wrangling kids, working nine hours, picking up kids, making dinner, doing housework and washing clothes, feeding bathing and putting kids to bed, working and housework until 11pm every night meant I had not been doing anything. FFS.
When I trawled through the mountain of washing that was threatening to swallow $1000 dog, I found ONE, yes ONE, pair of his underwear. The rest were neatly folded in the pile in the hallway as they have been for the last MILLION years. Waiting to be put away as they are meant to be each week. And he couldn't find them. FFS.
Despite being home WonderMan did not take $1000 dog to his vet appt and has been waiting ALL WEEK for ME to reschedule it. Because he can't pick up the phone. FFS.
This is what I got from my mother as a souvenir from the trip I planned to take her on but she took without me.
It's a Chinese cup from the Chinese Museum in Bendigo. NOT even the souvenir picture book from the White Wedding Dress exhibition I so desperately wanted to see, and which she couldn't take photos of. FFS.
I had to sit through 200+ photos of the REST of the trip. And be suitably entusiastic because no-one else cares and I, stupidly, feel bad that Dad and The Bitch are such anal assholes. FFS.
WonderMan has to work tomorrow and I can't go to Adelaide and see my cousin and her beautiful children and go to Ikea for dinner with them. And take my cousin shopping. And did I mention Ikea? FFS.
It's Friday and I have no parties to go to, no friends to drop round and drink wine with, and even if I did, my house is a mess, I'm a mess and I don't have a babysitter. FFS.
Thanks for letting me rant Dear Baby G. Visit her. She is awesome. I only just discovered her blog. It was like adding a rainbow to my life. Serial. xxxx
