Friday, 9 December 2011
laundry to fold (5 loads) and four more to wash. Has no one ever heard of nudist colonies?
Replace the bathroom tap so the water comes out at more than a trickle. If I can find the plumbing wrench. And if I can actually figure out how to do it.
Paint the girl's bedroom, which she had been promised would happen last Christmas...
Christmas tree to put up. Should be an enjoyable family activity. For crazy people, or the happy get along gang, maybe. Not for any normal family I've ever met.
House to decorate. Same as above.
Replace the front on the kitchen drawer someone slammed so hard (likely in a fit of rage. Possibly me) that it came off.
35K story to edit. I'm so seriously sick of this story I used to love it makes me want to cry.
And speaking of crying, a website to figure out why it's gone haywire, because the suckage that is a pathetic 0-4 hits a day my stats tell me I'm getting sure aren't sucking up much bandwidth! But my web host doesn't seem to care and I even offered to pay someone to help me with this and she gave me a pointer or two and pretty much told me to do it myself. Seriously. You people have no idea how much technology reaches down my throat and tries to strangle me with my own entrails. It hates me that much. I'm not exaggerating.
And instead of doing any of that fun stuff, I get to spend the weekend in the company of the most aggressively controlling and selfish person in my life. And help put up her Christmas tree. Huzzah.
Who wants to be me for a day or two? I'll trade ya! Do you clean fish guts for a living? Or hotel toilets where the rooms are to let by the hour? I'll do that. Muck raking? I could use the exercise, and probably the stress relief. Anything, just please someone make this all go away, just for a day.
Oh, and to top it off, I started reading First Watch by Peter...somebody. Sir, I'm so sorry I forget your last name. Let me just say, in the mood I'm in, I had to put the book down because of the potential for Dire Things seemingly about to happen to the protag, and I just couldn't stand it. I'll get back to it when I'm feeling a little more bullet proof and a little less like the proverbial ticking time bomb of hormonal insanity. Sorry. (Incidentally, that's good writing, if I actually care what's happening to the fictional guy so much I can't read the bad stuff unless I psyche myself up for it. Just sayin').
So yeah. Merry Christmas, everyone. I'll wander on back when I remember the whole love and joy part, promise. Look for me in mid February or so...
What do all of you do to get past this shit? There must be a trick I'm missing, because I'm a little....ranty.