I realise that some of you are reading and it is not even Thursday yet.
Or it could be Friday.
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.
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.
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.
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.