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You’re messing with my system. You’re messing with the ebb and flow. You’re messing with my basic psychological well being and it’s time for you to go away now.
I woke up this morning, looked outside, let go a string of profanity, made my morning coffee and waited. What was I waiting for?
I was waiting for the school bus monitor to tell me that the kids will be home yet AGAIN, I was waiting for my husband to tell me that he wasn’t even going to attempt to drive to work in this CRAP outside my window and while I would never want anyone to take their lives into their hands in weather like this, it is a complete pain in my ass to have EVERYONE home.
Well it’s a PITA because I live in a house that is filled to the brim with testosterone. What happens when there is too much testosterone wafting in the air? People clash.
It’s also a PITA because I can never seem to get anything done or a moment to myself in the hours that everyone is stuck inside. I can’t seem to get the dogs to listen, the cat to behave, the dishes out of the sink, the bathroom cleaned, the laundry done or even a proper meal cooked.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, I did have plans to sit my ass down and get my taxes done and electronically filed and that is only going to happen if I have enough silence to REALLY concentrate on the numbers.
This means that I will have to listen to cheesy 80’s music via my husband all damned weekend long, save for tomorrow because he IS going to work tomorrow, thrash metal / emo music via my 17 year old, rap via my 19 year old, and LOUD electric dueling guitars being played simultaneously from different bedrooms via my 16 and 18 year olds respectively.
This means that the dogs will want to go outside no less than 7,542,396 times from dawn until dusk because every time someone enters the room they are in they think it means it’s time to go out. This also means that my kitchen will look even more like a war zone than it does on any other day because every body in my house are food pickers and the only meal we really consistently eat together is dinner.
This means that any hope I had at all of having some de-stress time has flown out the window, and hope at all of catching up on homework, taking some girly time for me or just sitting down with a good book has flown to the bottom of the roster because every body needs something and when they are all home ‘I’ am apparently the only one in the house that knows where anything is or where anything goes or how anything works and of course, let’s not forget, that ‘I’ apparently know all the secrets that the universe holds.
This also means that I lose even more time with someone I cherish so very deeply and all of the other things combined don’t piss me off half as much as this one little fact does.
I will survive however. Somehow I always do, but I can not guarantee that I will have what shred of sanity I have left when I get to the other side.