Shit.

SHIT!

And then some more shit.

This was not a good weekend.

Now I'm sitting here with the morning Starbux (made to my specifications, so it doesn't completely suck) and being just a trifle overwhelmed with the list of things I need to get done today...I just don't want to. I don't want to do the vast majority of them. There is much cleaning to be done; don't want to do it. There is an abundance to laundry to tend to; I don't want to. The litter boxes are stinking up the entire downstairs; oh man, I do not want to deal with that.

I would mostly like to go back to sleep for a couple more hours; while the home maintenence fairies did their job. Wake up to a clean cave and nicely folded stacks of clean laundry. I'm betting this isn't going to happen.

My mother is mad at me. The b/f has annoyed me. The Girl-Child is currently avoiding my wrath. I cannot find my glasses, but the b/f's are sitting right here. Hope he doesn't need them. I can take the b/f back to the garage to pick his car this evening (yes, again) and then he leaves in the morning for parts unknown (not AsheVegas) to help at another store. He'll be gone for 3 days; I can't help but think this will be a good thing. Give us a break, make my mother "happy."

I can't help but think that I am really too old for this shit. Really, really way too old. I'm ready for the retirement home. I can be the youngest resident, that would be OK with me.

I am waiting for the 3rd...its only a week and a half. I need some cheese money. Money--what a fabulous concept. I need money. I need a job. Why isn't anyone calling me back? I'm employable. Dammit.

Shit on the lot of them. I'm cranky.

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