Aggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Ooh. That’s a little bit better.
I’ve had one of those days. We all have moments where we bite our tongue, or not, as the case may be. But we muddle on and it is soon forgotten.
Occasionally though, things drive you mad all day. And your blood begins to boil… and then simmers away for the rest of the day. Until wine o’clock.
Moments like this:
- Putting your coffee spoon on my teabag holder, so when I stir my cuppa, it tastes foul. And I have to start again. And by then, I haven’t got time for a cuppa
- Getting up at 5.45am, having meticulously planned for every eventuality, and still being late for work.
- The Cyclist not leaving the porridge bowls to soak so when I come to wash them they are like cement.
- Not closing the drawers under your bed, so I walk straight into them and take 5 layers of skin off my shin.
- When you make me a cuppa, and it’s a half-cup. Why? For the love of God, why? Where is the rest of my tea?
- Being in work and sneakily trying to do the Tesco online shop. Minimising it when my Frenemy comes in to ‘chat’ (read : Spy) and is there so long that I lose my delivery slot.
- Going, going , going out for a Sandwich. Oh dear, there’s nothing left. 5 Rich Teas and a banana it is. Sod it, a Blue Ribband and a packet of Snack a Jacks too.
- When the computer says No – and you want to hurl it through the nearest window.
- Being on hold for 42 minutes, finally getting through to someone and they say, ‘Can you put that in an email?’ No. I effing can’t. Why does no one want to talk any more??
- My mobile phone inexplicably ‘draining battery down‘ at the most inopportune moments.. Several times a day.
- Drowning behind my desk, not knowing where to start and so wasting a whole hour on Twitter.
- Driving home wanting to smack the driver in front of me for letting every man and his dog into the queue, when I am perilously close to getting a Late Pick Up fine from the Nursery. Again.
- Realising I have forgotten to clear the internet history on my work computer.
- Coming home and emptying nursery bag to find a poo wrapped in knickers. I mean, come on. What am I paying half my wages for? I would rather you put them in the bin than not even try.
- Shouting ‘I don’t even know what I’m doing tomorrow!!!!!” when the third text of the evening arrives trying to arrange ‘Easter play dates’.
- Finally getting the kids upstairs, undressed and within 1 metre of the bathroom door…and Oh look, there is no hot water because one of the little Darlings has been twiddling with the heating remote control.
- Not being able to find the ‘remote’ control.
- Wanting to hurt and maim The Cyclist for agreeing to new heating system. What was wrong with the switch on the wall?
- Soothing Littlest One who is wailing in bed for some crappy plastic monkey that came in a lucky dip from the Leisure Centre, that is the size of a 5p piece and is a complete choking hazard and is, completely, missing.
- Trying to log in to an account and trying every dog/cat/street name/date of birth I can think of before vowing absolutely NEVER to shop there again, before giving in and checking out as a guest using The Cyclist’s work email.
- Going back upstairs as the Little One is still wailing about the monkey. I offer every variety of Peppa I can find. And for the first time in her little life – she wants George. Don’t have George.
- Decide to open wine with The Cyclist before remembering that he has given it up for lent. Pious prat.