GrumbleCuss

I’m tired and it’s only Monday.

My kids are going on vacation tomorrow with my parents WITHOUT me.

I have to sit and listen to the lady who’s bigger around than she is tall tell me she is an expert on nutrition tomorrow.

I took over 20 pages of notes for nutrition class, just because that woman said I would be lucky to make a B in that class.  I aced all 4 pre-tests earlier.

I despise my job, my boss and my co-workers.

I still need to iron myself a shirt for tomorrow.  Just finished ironing the kids’ clothes for the trip.

I’m gonna miss my kids for the next few days.

Today was the husband’s birthday and I forgot to say “Happy Birthday” until nearly 6:0o p.m.  Wouldn’t have a thing to do with the fact that he pissed me off before 6:oo a.m., you reckon?

I’ve still got one more day of Hell at Work this week, but there is vacation next week.  Hopefully, I’ll turn in my notice the week after.  Hopefully.

I battled the leg poison ivy and got rid of it.

Now I have it on my arm.

I have the overwhelming urge to see (in person) some of my blog friends, some I’ve met before, some I haven’t.

I also have the overwhelming urge to wear heels and jeans.  For shame, for shame!

I can’t find my big earrings.  How can I wear jeans and heels without big earrings to finish the ensemble?

I’ve had to take to wearing reading glasses while wearing my contacts.  $200 of contacts and need a pair of $4 reading glasses.

Sigh.

The kids ran all the hot water out.  Now I’m waiting to take my bath, or I can take an ice bath.  Sheesh, nothing like the option of being able to cut glass for 3 days…

I see my daughter robbed my tennis shoes of their laces.  The heels are becoming a more and more doable option.  Especially since not only do they not have laces, but the tennis shoes need cleaning.  You can tell it rained here today from all that damned mud on them.  And the heels have cute little bows on them…

I think 5:00 a.m. will come way too quick in the morning.  Can’t we pretend it’s fall already and fall back?

For whatever reason, the fact that I did the Macarena once, while 8.5 months pregnant, just flashed through my mind.

What was I thinking?

Sigh.

Grumble.

Cuss.