I realise that some of you are reading and it is not even Thursday yet.
Or it could be Friday.
Or December.
Or like the year 2050. If so, do you guys have flying cars yet? That would be really cool, especially if you look like the Jetsons. Cause when I was a kid I totally wanted to be the daughter.
Or Melody from Josie and the Pussycats. The blonde drummer. Cause as a child I was dark skinned with blonde hair. Like most children of the late seventies early eighties.
Oh, and if any aliens are reading this, please don’t kill me. Or suck out my brain to use a brooch or something. Cause I can be useful. I could bake you a cake. Or help you pick out some kick arse shoes for your tentacles.
Ahem.
So, here, right now, as I write this with Boo flapping so hard he is about to take off and dinner not cooking itself in the kichen, it is Thursday.
And I am feeling a little weary, now I am working 4 days a week.
Yes, I can hear you, ‘I work 60 hours a week, what I would give to work 4 days a week during school hours… blah blah blah’ Yeah, fuck off. I am a princess.
And princesses should not have to work 4 fucking days a week.
So the day started like every other day, flying out of bed and screaming WAKE UP! gently whispering ‘time to get up my darling’ in to the ears of my loved ones.
Getting everyone ready, making lunches, packing bags, ironing (I KNOW! WHAT THE HELL?!), moving people in and out of the bathrooms, washing, beds, feeding the damn bunneh, driving driving driving to buses, trains and school and finally careening the car into the work car park at 9.01am.
Natter to the security guard while punching the lift button repeatedly. Alas, I must ride with the resident Pussy Cat Dolls wannabe who is texting and chewing gum. She exclaims how much she is loving this hot weather and I resist punching her in the throat.
There are cameras in the lift you know.
Heave open the double doors that I swear are made of freaking lead, and plop my bag on my desk. As I step towards my chair I feel a little funny. I look down and I have broken the heel off my shoe.
Yes.
My shoe.
My wedge sandals.
I stared in disbelief. A hush fell over the entire office.
But I handled it with dignity. Did a few urgent things and then drove home to change my shoes.
Cause I rock like that. *stifled sob*
When I came back I got the pleasure of witnessing the chick that sits within ear and eye shot devour her SECOND bag of donuts. And then a couple of spring rolls, a bag of chips, another bag of chips, yet another bag of chips and then FOUR chocolate bars.
And there was an apple on her desk. Decoration I think.
Put me off my latte. Almost.
Did worky worky things and left early to pick Moo up from the train station after her Chemistry exam, to take her shopping for clothes for work.
She started her new job this afternoon. At a music store. Just like her mummy did at her age.
Dumped her at work and went to school for a meeting with the principal. Walked out with promises of everything I wanted and the guy eating out of my hand.
I rock the shmooze.
Picked up Boo, discovered that my child with Autism that is not supposed to understand social cues and the like, bullied another child today… discussed how we were going to handle this, drafted a social story, gave the little turd a stern talking to (he told a child that wanted to play with him to go away because he smelled like germs. The poor kid almost cried and other kids laughed. Broke my fucking heart) then swung around to the train station to pick up Too and came home to fall in a melting heap in front of the airconditioner blowing a breeze up my skirt.
Dinner?
The chick down the road in front of the hot grill is making it. Grilled flake and chips for the win.
And I get to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.
Adding a side trip to stock up on booze and maybe break out my Josie and the Pussycats outfit.
{ 46 comments }
Hey- all right- you’re superhuman as well as awesome. I can’t measure up, so I’ll shut up- but I’ve already lived 20 more years- nyah na nah na naaah naah! I’m still keeping my fingers crossed that Moo will become a famous molecular biiologist…
Oh, Kel.
Your secret superpower is waking up in the morning and having the courage to get out of bed. I thought my day was hard. You are a legend.
Best regards, Andrew
Oh, internetty hugs and chocolate for you.
I think as bullying goes, telling a kid he smells of germs isn’t really top of the list. I’ve done worse than that, and I was a little angel at school.
/me smiles nervously.
Seriously guys, the worst part was the shoe….
My SHOE! *rock rock rock*
I would have punched her.
*hands over the vodka*
so when is the shoe funeral?
Or is it going to shoe hospital to get a quick nip, tuck and glue on the QT?
Am thinking Josie and the Pussycat Dolls would be a FTW band.
Oh, and sorry about the shoe… *sympathetic latte and bag of clinkers for you babe*
OMG! Not the shoe! *whimpers in sympathy*
I sympathise with the bullying thing. Its not nice, but it’s also maybe a ‘woo hoo’ thing too… he showed social ‘skills’ *ahem*.
Oh no – not the wedge sandals on top of all the other stuff
gooey chocolateness to you (but not so much as to make you into the donut/chippy/choccy queen you sit next to at work).
So, did you take the lovely, elegant, wounded shoe to the fetish hospital, or did you (ugh, retch) bin it?
I’ll put on my Pussycat ears, too. Then I’ll do a shot in your name. And I’ll chase it with (a reasonable amount of) chocolate all while wearing my best shoes. And I will declare it to be international Kelley rocks day (cause I have that sort of power).
“he told a child that wanted to play with him to go away because he smelled like germs.”
Hahahahha! Ow! Kelley! No. more. laughing. It hurts!
Smelled like germs. Heh! Priceless! I may use that.
What a day you had! So is the plan to bury the shoe on sacred ground, or to light a funeral pyre?
What sort of social story did you make, after the Boo incident?
You know….
When it gets too warm to bear sweating your arse off with all that running around, you could put up your shiny sparkly sequins SUPER Woman/Mommy cape on Ebay for auction and use the proceeds to buy take out to feed the fam & a house keeper to clean up after them so you can take a whole week off to travel to some exotic destination to lounge around on sunny beach while a super hawt cabana boy brings you drinks & feeds you grapes…
OR, you could do the first part and just hang around the house wearing the Melody get up dusting & organizing your shoes. Whichever.
You deserve it! XOXO
I’m so sorry to hear about your shoe. I know how attached you get.
On the bright side…I think the rule is: break one shoe, get two. You can quote me on that if you need too. It’s bad luck if you only get one pair out of the deal.
The snapping for the gun in an elevator would have put me over the edge even before the broken heel, which I would have went postal about in front of the entire office at that point. Cause I have just THAT much self control. Then I may or may not have taken the broken shoe to pummel the bag of chips or donuts because of the crinking sounds they make each and every time her germy paw went into the bag.
You are the bigger person. I give you cradit. And order a damn pizza for dinner. And eat it yourself with some ice cream. It’s cure all.
nooooooooo… not the shoe!!!!!!!!!!! *cries messily in the corner*
You should really take better care of your shoes by not walking on them so much.
Again, mother-of-the-year you are.
And now I’m speaking in Yoda.
I <3 the Boo! Too precious!
Smell of germs.
You sir, you smell of germs!
Get out of my way woman, you smell of germs!
I’m going to be saying that for the whole weekend now.
Phew! I feel tired just reading that hun! (hugs)
I used to work 4 days pre-child. It sucked then. I’d never make it through the week now.
I wanted to be Jane Jetson…but the lucky b*tch got to press a button and be all showered and clean.. she had a freaking maid… I was out on her hair style but hey, to never have to shower or blow dry my hair again, give me the part and the wing tips..
Sorry about the shoe. And the germs made me giggle..but probably not so much on your end.
Sounds hectic!!! No wonder you got take-out!
How do you break a wedge heel? You must move at warp speed.
It’s 1982 where I am. A Wednesday in 1982.
4 day working week ???
What is this working outside the home that you speak of? Sounds nasty.
Bullied ?? Or spoke the truth …..
And shoe R.I.P. That would have to be one of the saddest things that has happened to you. Have you thought of grief counselling?
Wow, Kelly. I don’t even have to do that much and I’m totally laid off right now and I just have one kid and he’s well behaved… and I’m still tired at night! You deserve a drink. Or a big piece of chocolate cake. Or something. Also, I know bullying is bad, but that might be one of the best insults I have ever heard.
I didn’t want to be Judy Jetson for the odd white hair at 17. But, Melody? Loved her, too. All those Pussycats were badasses.
RIP your wedge. I woulda cried.
Holy cow – 2 bags of donuts, 2 spring rolls, 3 bags of chips and 4 chocolate bars? I feel sick!
Oh – someone else with my life!
My husband can’t understand why I don’t have breakfast at home – as he sits drinking his tea & eating his toast in the middle of my lunch-making bench. And he pouts if I don’t thank him after he unpacks the dishwasher (after I have ever-so-sweetly asked for help). According to him, he ‘keeps the children on track’ for me in the mornings. I get to work and collapse after doing all of the things you have mentioned above.
I read somewhere recently that the reason that women live longer than men is because ‘they need the rest’!
Wow. All that ‘you may be an alien while you’re reading this’ made me feel light-headed. Off to lie down.
GAW stupid shoes. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t throw your broken shoe at anyone’s nose though…
*sigh*
Maybe next time…
Whew… you did all that and still found time to write an kick-ass blog post.
Damn about the shoe!
“Smells of germs” ? That’ll teach the kids to clean their green, rotting teeth!
Or stop eating garlic pizzas for lunch….or wipe their bum properly.
Don’t the teachers/kids make comments about Boo’s farts, though? Bit hypocritical.
Boo’s teachers and principal – you STINK of germs!
My sympathy for your loss.
My shoes are always breaking in public.
The bad side … I have to walk with one foot in tippy toes for a while, usually clutching on to my husband for balance. The good side … I have to go out and buy another pair so I don’t have to do the one-sided tippy toe walk.
Oh Kel-ley! I have VOD-KA. And choc-late! In the Sta-ates!
How the fuck do you break a wedge heel? I mourn with you.
What…it’s NOT the year 2050? Damn I hate when I wake up early…
PS – You better not miss my post for Fri 11/14 BECAUSE YOU WILL BE TAGGED…and I NEVER TAG. I’m one post shy of 600 and out of those there are only 3 current pictures of VE and NONE of him when he was younger. Ever wonder what teen VE looked like? Here’s your opportunity to find out along with a mega embarrassing meme as well. It’s not pretty.
You’d be hotter than yesterdays weather in a Josie and the Pussycats outfit.
You broke the heel off your shoe? Nice. Guaranteed to take people’s eyes away from the wonky fringe trim…
(Keep some super glue in your desk drawer. For shoe repair)
Sounds like the shoe was the heel that broke the camel’s back…yeah, I don’t know where I was going with that either.
wow…
what a day…
Honey—ya got let the fam do this shit for themselves…really…Moo and Too get get their own butts out of bed and make their own breakfasts and iron their own shit….Boo may need a shove, but honestly…let them do it for themselves and cut yourself a break…I figured that poor wedge heel just couldn’t take the pressure anymore! Crocs never break (teehee…I just couldn’t help myself on that one!)
I think the Jetsons theme song sucks ass.
Besides that, I think it’s awesome that he told some kid he smelled like germs. Probably because the kid probably DID smell like germs. Don’t most kids?
God I’m a biotch.
Melody was always the cute one. Even though she was ditzy (or perhaps *because* she was ditzy? I was a shallow young boy then, so who knows?)… but anyway, regardless… Melody was always my pick of the cats.
Oh. And Betty was *far* better than Veronica.
You know I totally wanted to be Melody from Josie and the Pussycats.
You are on fire with your posts, Kel and you’re hawt and you’re a supermum!
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