I fell out of bed at 9am... which was a bit of a pisser seeing that I had an hour drive to get to my meeting and had no petrol. Appeared that boy child had yet another shower based on the number of towels and wet footprints strewn across the bathroom. Must have discussion with him about the price of water on a water meter. Also mother had decided that today was the day that she simply must cash in her eye glass prescription that has been harboring in her bag for ooooh forever? This meant I didn't have to humiliate the girl child because riding on the bus with your Nonna (or grandmother but don't tell her I said that) on the way to school is pretty embarrassing.
Took look at self in the mirror and decided that since I was already late taking a shower was not an option. Hair decided that in this case it was going for full on Afro mode, I retaliated by figuring since it was raining this did not matter (trust me it did); was only on break neck speed to visit that I realized that I had trapped my cardigan in the door of the car hence dripping wet one sided cardigan with what I shall now be referring to as motorway stains. Got to visit and attempted to pull self together in half assed can't really be bothered attempt. Turns out other side of cardigan (sans motorway sans) has massive hole in pocket so ended up doing the stoop walk as I walked to my destination scooping the various items that fell out of said pocket on the way. Full credit to the other social worker who took 10 minutes of not asking to work out whether I was a service user or a social worker. I don't actually know what she decided but when she left she did say how nice it was to see me and that she'd visit again soon. Think that clarifies her opinion but that could have been the Afro hair.
Drove to work and lost my temper at the fact that yet again I cannot find a parking place, I did consider randomly dumping the car but then noticed the number of notices attached to other people's cars and decided against it. Ended up dumping my car not that far from work but due to the wind and the rain and having to cart all my shit up a zillion steps it felt like forever away. Arrived in office to do my mandatory "come in at least two days to be part of the team" to find no desks. So no desk, no parking and therefore no team spirit. Of the two remaining hot desks one of them didn't have a chair and the other didn't having a working connection. Bastardised the two desks together much to the amusement of everyone else in the open plan and V professional office but again this could have been the hair, the grunting, the slightly damp air about me or the general funk I appear to be emanating. Checked emails to discover that the only cashpoint in the joint in the middle of nowhere is now going to charge 99p for withdrawals due to goverment cutbacks. Now the organised would have cash for a location in the middle of no where, but cash being a rare thing in my life as it is I never do. So now I can't park at my own office, sit with my own team and NOW I have to pay to withdraw my own money. I don't know why they don't just send me a generic email that says "we don't want you here" I can take a hint after all. Was in general state of annoyance and also mildly bored... got so bad I asked my boss for more work....
Drove home in funk... considered general mood and tiredness and crazy up down up down status so decided to phone the GP to avoid crisis. Now far be it for me to do down anyone who is admin / receptionist / clerk / whatever title you want who works for the GP but if I am ringing at 5 in the evening NO I do not want to call at 8am and wait for an appointment, NO I don't want to detail my symptoms to someone with NO medical / mental health knowledge at all and further more don't try and fob me off with Mr Crappy I don't have any people skills GP who called me "grossly obese" the last time I went to see him. Why on earth would I want to see him? especially since the only appointments you supposedly have are with him in the first place because apparently no one in the WHOLE county wants to see him either. Finally by going overboard with a complete lie about my skin peeling off my face and convincing the receptionist that I have a new breed of leprosy I managed to get an appointment on Friday. I confess that I may have employed the "desperately psychotic neurotic hypochondriac" tone but whatever works.
Turns out you can't get anything past my mother, so we had a discussion about why I feel crappy / tired/ unmotivated and we came up with several reasons, had I had a flip chart and pens we probably could have made a chart.... it would have looked like this...
I guess if I had to analyse it I'm bummed that I got through all the December stuff and nothing happened... like new year is here and I'm still bleurgh...
That being said huge props to Mummy (see told you I was in a funk) who loves me enough to pander to my many many whims...
She found me this on her pink boot stomping, getting glasses and belt (the belt because she got to town and her trousers practically fell to her ankles over her pink boots) scouting of the town. She is pretty epic after all, also crafty goodies because clearly she's anticipating raiding my stash.
I felt the need for fish finger sandwiches (I had no custard) and mulled wine and since a wise old guru (very possibly my mum) said a little of what you fancy does you good, I decided to agree... as can be seen from this picture Dry January is not happening and in the event of emergencies I can drink vinegar!
In other news, last night hubby decided after convincing me that I needed a shower (he was right) before bed to jump in said shower so that I couldn't. He also refused to make me a cup of tea, so I had a mini tantrum and flushed the toilet on purpose and stole all the towels. The problem is that I forget that hubby is the doer of all evil and revenge (hence why I married him the ultimate revenge) so when I got in the shower he used every single towel he could find to dry his body and doing all the unnecessary drying that only a man can do, he also decided to turn the shower off mid soap and giggle manically. I told him was a child and threw yet another temper tantrum; which isn't as effective when you can't see because you have shampoo in your eyes and only man soaked towels to wipe your face with. Once we had called a truce I went into the bedroom to discover that he had hidden ALL of the bed linen and pillows and lay quite proudly in the middle of the bed. Again I was not particularly polite but got my own back by doing the equivalent of the wet puppy (I said puppy) shake of my stupidly long yet wet hair over him until he gave in...
It's true... your husband is the biggest child you will have...
No comments:
Post a Comment