Crap.
Crap I
I'd written a long and rather eloquent (if I do say so myself) post about my birthday and the evils of Victoria's Secret, but it was 'lost' when I tried to publish and I somehow didn't have a connection.
Short version: I bought flannel jammies with my gift certificate. Nothing else looked appropriate for me.
Crap II
Realtor called at 12:30 about a 1:30 showing, and we wouldn't have to leave. Fine. Got baby down for her nap by 12:45 and proceeded to start getting stuff ready, saving the kitchen for last. They showed up at 1:00. THIRTY MINUTES EARLY. Five, ten, even fifteen and I'm fine - but thirty? Needless to say the kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off. Tuesday is Empty the Fridge and Grocery Shop. I was somewhere between getting the fridge emptied and putting away the new stuff. Dammit. I hate being unprepared.
Crap III
My Monthly Friend is coming. I can feel it. Maybe it was the fact that I cried when I talked to Husband this morning. Something about how it feels like Groundhog Day. Like if I had a date that we were moving, I could deal, but not knowing when we're going is really starting to wear on me. That and I'm alone all week. Except for the snot nosed small ones. The demanding ones. The draining ones. Ugh. Oh yea, and I'm bloated leaving me two pair of jeans that fit.
Freaking lovely. Can I have a mulligan?
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Crap I (literally):
Me: Saturday - Sunday
Crap II:
Baby: Sunday - Monday. Now she has a fever of 101 and a cough so bad it makes her cry.
Crap III:
Dh: started at 6 am this morning
Crap IV:
MJ: ETA any flipping time now.
I need a mulligan too! Wish I were closer so I could come hug you. Oh wait, you wouldn't want to come anywhere near us. :(
I will hope and pray you survive your week, please do the same for me. This is exactly when we started down the the 6 week road of illness last year. I will be locked up if this year is a repeat.
Megan
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