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I am feeling irritatingly chipper this morning. For no good reason, really, except that I was a good hour and fifteen minutes late for work this morning because I couldn’t make myself get out of bed. Maybe I’m just happy because Lukas and Nickolas are enjoying their first day of preschool today. Or could it be that Nick quit his job with DMIL’s husband and started working for his cousin again? Perhaps it’s because Best*Buy called yesterday and they have my computer back from HP, all fixed and ready for pickup. No good reason my ass, I’ve got plenty of good reasons. Now if I could just stop feeling like I’m going to hurl for a minute, I’d be on cloud fucking nine right now. So yeah, preschool. They ran right in and didn’t look back. I had to force Nickolas to give me a kiss goodbye because he was “with some friends.” Sigh. My babies are so big. It’s insane. I’ve heard a lot of good things about this preschool, and a lot of parents have told me that their children have become much more well-behaved after just a few days. I’m hopeful. My kids aren’t badly behaved by any means, but they do have their moments. Moments that make my eyes bleed from the pressure of clenching my teeth and thinking, “Don’t hurt them, they’re just babies, don’t hurt them, they’re just babies…” You know. Moments. Nick decided that he could no longer stand to work with DMIL’s weird husband. He’s been thinking that for a while, actually. So when his cousin took him out for a few Jager bombs the other night and asked if he’d like to work for him, Nick jumped at the chance. He’ll make a lot more money and I might actually get to see him in the evenings once in a while since his cousin is a big fan of “get started early so you can hit the bar by three.” I’m loving it. And the money thing is good because preschool? Not cheap. Our internet at work is being all fucking weird. I can look at Diaryland and all the other blogs I read, but if I try to do anything work related, the fucking shit doesn’t come up. It’s not just my computer, either; the whole office is like that. I think it’s a sign. A sign that work is stupid. (Actually, that’s what Danielle and I call this place, as in “See you at Stupid” and “I was super late for Stupid this morning.” We’re so clever that we actually talk like that. Ugh. Note to self: don’t write the way you talk. You sound like a retarded valley girl.) I got SO MUCH STUFF off my desk already this morning. No wonder my house is a mess. I must be concentrating all my energy on Stupid. Seriously, my house looks like a bomb went off. A smelly diapers and dishes bomb. Have I ever mentioned how much I COMPLETELY LOATHE doing the dishes? The dishes are my arch-nemesis, with the soaking and the scrubbing and the drying and the putting away and the NEVER ENDING-NESS and the MOCKING ME WITH THE FUCKING SITTING THERE ALL DAMN WEEKEND. I don’t WANT to do the dishes. I am so not going home after work. I’m going to run away because I don’t want to do the dishes. To somewhere with a dishwasher. Fucking dishes. Way to ruin my mood. Kids are: "Higher" Creed. Not a big Creed fan. Last person who pissed me off: Fucking. Dishes. Heard in my house: "Is it time to go to the ABC school yet?" Lukas has been ready for this for weeks. Miss Anything? It's a boy! - 2006-12-12
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