Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Just Another Monday Morning

*The following is a copy of an email that I sent to my husband at work around 8:30am yesterday, in response to his typical GOOD MORNING, HOW ARE YOU? email. Clearly, it was a GREAT morning, and I was FABU-FUCKING-LOUS.
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HI, B.

JESUS. I don't want to start the day out by bitching like a crazy shrew, but I need to rant for a minute. Today, thus far, has been a freakin'

*HOLY FUCK. THINGS JUST GOT WORSE. Back in a sec*

Okay. SO, I'll pick up where I left off and get to the "HOLY FUCK" part in due time. Today has been a freakin' disaster. I had to drag Sutt out of bed which upset him because he was still tired. Then he got upset because he ate the last of the oatmeal and I couldn't make more (he had had a ton, I think he was fine). He yelled for twenty minutes that I was "STARVIN' HIM HAFFA DEF." The kids then got in a HUGE fight over the fucking Santa advent calendar hanging on the wall because Sutt wants it to be on the 24th until Dec. 1st when we can actually use it, and Belly does not. It came to pushing and screaming and, I believe, some hair pulling. I broke up the fight and sent Belly off to find shoes and she spent over 15 minutes freaking out because she couldn't find ANY shoes where BOTH shoes were present, except her Sketchers flipflops, which she then asked if she could wear (um, NO, it's NOVEMBER). She ended up crying and being furious at me. I was like, "Look, kid, if you weren't so goddamn messy you'd know where your shoes were. This is YOUR problem and YOUR fault, so don't get mad at me." She finally found the black (too small) flats that Barbara gave her, which (kind of) went with her outfit, but told me she COULD NOT WEAR THEM because they felt sandy inside where dirt had gotten in them when she had worn them outside to play. I pointed out that I do not condone her wearing them out to play, this was her problem (again) and it was time to FUCKING LEAVE SO LET'S GO. Then she proceeded to get angry because I made her wear a jacket over her short-sleeved shirt (it covered up her vest! It wasn't fashionable!). SIGH.

Keep in mind that while all this is going on, I'm trying to order insulin from Express Scripts AND find the number for the vet because Maddie is STILL chewing her damn crotch. During this time I see that I can schedule an online appt. with vet, which I try to do because they do not open until 9 and I don't want to wait that long to call. After all the fucking forms I had to fill out, it turns out you can only schedule exams and shots online, and it must be at least four days in advance. LOT OF FUCKING GOOD THAT DOES ME. THANKS FOR TELLING ME BEFOREHAND, WEBSITE.

I get the kids outside and Sutt refuses to tell me he loves me because he's too busy racing his sister to the bus. I yelled that I loved him THREE FUCKING TIMES and I got nothing back. Punkass. It makes me sad. I come back in and get my computer. I realize Maddie has drank my WHOLE GODDAMN CUP OF COFFEE WHILE I WAS TAKING THE KIDS OUTSIDE. That's exactly what the goddamn spastic-ass dog NEEDS to do since she's already functioning at warp speed ALL THE TIME (including times of crotch chewing).

(HERE IS THE HOLY FUCK PART)

I'm sitting here, pissed at the world, on the loveseat. Mimi is asleep by the end of the sofa. Maddie is sitting in "your spot" on the sofa looking nervously at me because she knows that I know she drank the coffee. AND THEN SHE FUCKING PROJECTILE VOMITS COFFEE EVERYWHERE.

HAVE YOU EVER FUCKING SEEN A DOG PROJECTILE VOMIT? I had not. I have now. It was awful. And it wasn't a little bit, it was like a gallon of sticky, slightly-chunky coffee. All over the couch. All over the loveseat. All over the ottoman. All over the rug and the carpet. It was running EVERYWHERE down in the sofa. OH DEAR HOLY JESUS. FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I chucked Maddie outside, grabbed a towel, and started cleaning. And scrubbing.

I now have puke all over my pants AND my sweatshirt and at this point I don't even fucking care. Belly is pissed at me, Sutt doesn't love me, you are at work likely having some GODDAMN MEETING, Mimi refuses to let me pet her, and Maddie is puking. Also, all the coffee is gone.

Fuck.

Love you.

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