Hey, It's Okay!

Another Tuesday, another linky with the delightful Whispering Writer 

Also joining I Blog On Tuesdays with Diary of a SAHM

 

 I like being okay about things, I like being cool, calm and collected, totally ZEN, ya know?

I'm hopeless at it. 

So I love Amber's Hey It's Okay linky, it reminds me to be chilled for, oh, at least ten minutes a week.

It's okay to......

.... like purple Powerade, which means I frequently can be found at ballet lessons sporting a stunning purple tongue. 

.... pretend this is the ONLY reason the ballet mummies look at me funny.

..... believe in the chance of winning the lottery as a way of keeping my sanity.

.... forget to write a letter to WonderMan all week.

.... count the days until our big move and frequently freak out over how little I have done vs the amount of time left to do it in.

.... be a little pissed that not one of my friends (other than one who is booked up) have offered to babysit Frog for a lousy 3 hours while I work one Saturday morning. Yet I would move heaven and earth to help them if they were stuck like this.

.... vow never to help out another person in this damn place ever again.

.... admit I like part numbers, and cataloging, even I am working for my parents for free. I'm good with numbers, and motorbike bits. Just don't ask me to actually BUILD one.

.... eat a punnet of strawberries for lunch. They're healthy right? And soooo yummy!

.... wish they were choc mint cake pops.

Mmmmmm..... cake pops.......

Hey It's Okay!

It's another round of Hey It's OK! Tuesday over here:

and I Blog On Tuesdays over at Diary of a SAHM:

Today it's OK to...

...want a wardrobe like Kim Kardashian's and bugger the husband!

...wish some of my excess thighs would trickle down and even out my legs.... or at least lengthen them a little while I sleep.

...be pissed off at WonderMan for not sitting down and having the "So how much am I going to get paid?" talk with his new boss. Because I just discovered it's less than the last one, with no days off and no perks. 

...lock the doors, turn off the lights and go to bed with my laptop to avoid random packs of half drunk teenagers trick or treating. Last year some little punk threatened me after I said I didn't participate. Not cool.

...have a packet of licorice bullets hidden in my bedside drawer. 

...want to hot wire some little punked up hoons stereos so when they play doof doof music their seats zap their arse.

...want Frog to stop screaming at EVERYTHING.

...be disappointed I haven't managed to collect the whole Discworld series before Snuff was released. Economic factors (ie being broke) beat me in the end.

...not get everything done, because I know that it is me who hasn't done it. I cannot stand delegating or sharing jobs with others who don't get them done on time or properly. This is why living with the Procrastination King drives me wild!

...sing along with my stereo very loudly and very badly. 

Hey, It's Okay!

Joining Diary of a SAHM for IBOT

And The Whispering Writer for Hey It's Okay! Tuesday

There's lots of things to be okay about today:

Like blogging while my cleaner washes my floors,

Being strong-willed enough to chop up an apple to have with my salad sandwich, instead of hightailing it to my favourite cafe to have a peri peri wrap,

Wearing my favourite racing t-shirt because I miss my motorbike,

Missing WonderMan,

While feeling guiltily grateful that since he's been gone my house looks nice,

Wanting the grass to grow faster so I can use his whipper snipper I gave him for his birthday,

Not speaking to The Bitch because she didn't speak to me, which is much nicer than the threats she spews at me whenever I am not around,

Being excited about Frog's 11 hour sleep marathon last night, considering the slim chances of it ever happening again, I may as well enjoy my five minutes of non-sleep deprived sanity.

Not understanding how people can be so dirty. Seriously, you sit on your fat arse all day, living off the nation's workers, gobbling the town's entire supply of chips and coke, and you can't wash your clothes more than once a month? 

And most of all I'm okay about giving dad my free coffee because it's his birthday today. 

Which really was a peace offering because, being at official retirement age, I gave him a Seniors Card application form as well, and he couldn't hit me with a coffee in his hand.

Heh.

That's what daughters are for.

You're welcome Dad.

Hey It's Okay!

Seriously glad I have HIOKTuesday to keep me occupied today, because there are so many things to be said, so jumbled and messy in my head, and that's not even including the things I'm not allowed to say at the moment....

SO a very big virtual thankyou hug goes out to Amber @ Airing My Dirty Laundry for Hey It's Okay Tuesday!



I love her because she named her daughter Natalie. Could she have any more style?

Today I'm struggling to be okay about anything much.

So #1 on the list today:

It's okay to order a third mocha because everyone knows great coffee is essential to great blogging.

It's okay to keep justifying my mocha obsession this way because it means I get to my free coffee quicker. And then I can tell WonderMan it was FREE. Which is not technically a lie.

It's okay to go out claiming I have done housework, even if all I have done is made the beds.

It's okay to do all the rest of the housework at 9pm tonight because I have a rental inspection tomorrow.

And it's definitely okay to justify this by claiming the kids would have messed it up anyway.

It's okay to be dreaming of packing boxes and moving trucks, and foreign countries with better shopping. It makes a change from drive by shootings and petrol bombs....

It's okay to wonder if it really is necessary to finish the year in this god forsaken hick town.

And it's probably okay to question the logic of it being "better for the kids", or more stable, or whatever stupid thing we said to make the decision seem right.

It's okay to want to shout at everyone because I've done what's bloody right, and what needed to be done for the safety of the most innocent of lives.

And right now it's okay to be petrified to be out of my house, but to be here anyway because I WILL NOT allow anyone to threaten me.

It's okay to snigger at the girl who took my old job because she seems to think white tracksuits with chandelier earrings are the height of fashion...

It's definitely okay to do this while standing behind her in line to order my third mocha.

In fact, I don't really care if it's okay or not, I don't like her.

And I'm okay with that too.

Also joining with Diary of a SAHM for IBOT, for the first time!

Hey, It's Okay!

Linking with The Whispering Writer for Hey It's Okay Tuesday!

 

 It's okay:

To avoid Facebook now that's it's changed again. I can't find anything, nothing is in order, and I keep missing important stuff because "Facebook doesn't think I will find it interesting".

To try to attach hastags to everything I type because I've discovered how cool Twitter is. #hashtags = #awesome.

To avoid shifting most of our stuff by having a garage sale and visiting Ikea on our way though the city with the moving truck. SMART.

To really be doing this because I'm sick and tired of my crappy old furniture and it depresses me when I look at lovely houses to rent and then imagine my yukky, seriously second hand, so odd it can't even be called ecclectic furniture in them. Yuk.

To have never visited Ikea but already be addicted to it. I may melt from the excitement of my first visit.

To still be cranky about dog hair in my laundry because $1000 dog has been upgraded to an indoor suite post hip operation.

To get a cleaner because WonderMan is about to go away until the new year... and if I have to do the dishes myself there is no way NO WAY I will be able to cope without some form of help.

To ask the cleaner if she does dishes.

To aboslutely and completely loathe dishes.

To put a dishwasher on my house hunting list.

To consider eating my daily calorie intake as m&m's as long as I don't go over.

To accompany my m&m's with a suitable wine.

To hate people who don't drive according to the road rules. How on earth do 99% of people in this country get their licence?