Perhaps it’s the fact that January slid into February with nary a change in scenery (cold + snow = whatever). Perhaps it’s the fact that I am not cut out to be a single (ok, pseudo-single) mother at ALL. Maybe it’s just the way the goddamn stars & moon are aligned. Who cares. I am officially PISSY. I am wearing the ranty pants and that’s how it’s gonna be.
It’s got to be better than yelling at my kids. Sigh.
Rant #1: Octomom. My brain does not compute. HOW many kids under the age of 8? What happened to the whole “unnamed mother wanting to keep her identity private” of the first days? Oh, how I long for them. I have officially judged her, and I’m unable to apologize. There is something very wrong with the entire situation, and it skeeves me out horribly.
Rant #2: Are boys/men just hardwired to be fucking slobs? I tell my children, “No TV until the basement is clean. This includes your rooms.” What do they do? J cleans his room well, does almost nothing in the living room. A barely cleans his room, does a half-assed job in the living room. Both completely ignore the piles of crap along the floor under the couch, under the coffee table, along the tv unit (floor again), and in various corners. A had the gall to tell me that all the little pieces – such as the balled-up wrappers from the VDay chocolate kisses I gave them – are “hard to see.” WTF?! I’m 35, and could find them all without my damn glasses on. Me? I yell a lot, try to understand how they can be so. fucking. messy. Mid way through the yelling, I realize how completely fucking irrational I am acting/sounding, and I shut the hell up. Apologies to my children, calmer voice, clear directions on what to do, just do it right now….and voila. Clean basement.
Rant #3: what kind of fucking moron wears the wrong coat out of the house, thereby locking herself out? ME, that’s who. Yep. I have two sets of keys, both with a van key. This way, when it’s minus omgmynosehairsjustfroze outside, I can leave the van running, and lock it. And yes, I leave the kids in it. Judge away. The problem with this is only one set has a house key on it. Idiot. I use one van key in the morning (office mail pickup) and the other at night (home mail pickup). Yes, I am weird and rather anal retentive. Again, feel free to judge. Or laugh.
Rant #4: Why the hell do we have animals in this house? Gizmo is going to have a very short life. He’s become horribly annoying, usually at about 4 am. I have a fully loaded spray gun at my bedside, and I use it. Goldie continues to use my living room carpet as her personal toilet, to varying degrees each week. We’re currently at 4 days without a pee, and a mere 2 hours without a poop. Good times. I would just make the goddamn vet appt already, but I know those judgmental fucks are going to make me feel worse about a decision that is already killing me to make. Argh.
Rant #5: The oven died. Not the stove part, thankfully. And, since it’s an old 24 inch apartment sized oven that’s quite possibly older than me, I have ordered a new one. Full size. Self-cleaning. Smooth top. Wait. What the fuck am I ranting about, again?
