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Ugh. I don�t want to be here. Three day weeks are so pointless. Just give us the whole week off already. It�s not like we�re working or anything. I�m Christmas shopping on eBay, that�s what I�m doing. I just got my dad a Vikings watch. I�m still working on getting him a jersey. But then I have to get one for myself, and that gets expensive�so, whatever. DMIL is stomping around the office. Literally stomping. Like a four-year-old. Personally, I find it funny, closely followed by annoying. She�s mad because people keep asking her questions. Maybe if she hadn�t appointed herself the queen of all things, she wouldn�t have to answer so many questions. Duh. She came over Saturday morning and told me that the house looks okay, but she had some ideas. I swallowed my scream, sat on my itchy fist, and told her thanks but no thanks. I told Nick when he got home so that we could present a united front. You see, that�s how she works. She�ll ambush one of us, and get that person to agree to something just to make her shut the hell up. Then when the other person finds out and protests, she can play us against each other because �Well, Nick wanted it that way. I�m just trying to help you guys.� Rrrrrrrrr. I�m going to lose it with her one of these days. I�m also irritated because I have to figure out a way to get money out of checking account when your husband has taken away the ATM card and the checkbook but expects you to make payments. And I have to figure out how to get to the next (far-away) town and back on my lunch hour, which is actually a lunch half-hour. (It isn�t going to happen, that�s how.) I am exhausted. I barely got to rest at all this weekend since Nick worked all day both days, after his boss/DMIL�s husband told him it would only be for a few hours each day. I guess a few hours means nine hours, without overtime for it being a weekend. I suppose I should be glad he�s working, but he�s never home. I can�t do this all by myself. Make the car payment, pay the lawyer, pick up the kids, feed the kids (we have no food in the house), move all the totes from the storage shed by myself with the kids�It�s not Nick I�m mad at, I know he�s just trying to make money so we can live, but I�m so tired. I need a break sometimes, and when he�s not there, I don�t get one. I end up falling into bed at ten o�clock when he finally gets home and letting him deal with Lukas, who won�t go to bed until he sees him. Then he ends up keeping Luke up late because he misses him, but then leaves before he sees what a monster he is when he only gets seven hours of sleep. Ha ha ha, that�s funny. DMIL is screaming at the phone company on the phone because they charged her for a 2 minute call when the call was only 1.6 minutes. Um, that�s what they do. Duh, again. I hope they tell her that in the snottiest way possible. Then she�ll really get yelling. We already had the boss yell, �I�m not fucking paying it!� this morning. The whole place got really quiet, until I (of freaking course) couldn�t hold in my giggles anymore. I mean, he swears all the time. Why did we all get quiet right then? No one else thought it was nearly as funny as I did, so I just looked like I was high or something. Which, by the way, I am not. But I think they might put crack in the coffee here. Seriously. When I drink coffee at home, or from St@rbucks or wherever, I never get a buzz. But the coffee here really whacks me out, like the buzz you get when somebody cut your coke with trucker speed. (Not that I know what that feels like. I�m just guessing.) (Ha.) They must make it really horrifically strong. It does taste like wide open ass. I�ve really got to stop now. Oh yeah, you all can quit searching �Beth Nude� now. You�re freaking me the fuck out. Kids are: "Come Sail Away" Styx - All I can hear is Eric Cartman singing when I hear this. Last person who pissed me off: Whoever made the coffee. Yuck. Heard in my house: I had a second body I could send on errands for me. Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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