I can’t even

For the last several days I have been head down on a project at work. Writing code pretty much from the moment I arrive on a morning, to the moment I leave on an evening. I’ve also been grocery shopping on the way home after receiving calls (as I did this evening) from my other half, asking me to get something for dinner, because she can’t even either.

The entire world seems very much like a treadmill at the moment. I get up, make breakfasts, make packed luches, wash up, clear the kitchen and lounge, feed the cats and fish, and go to work. I come home and immediately face a trashed kitchen the moment I walk in the door – which I try and clear again before I even sit down for dinner (or make dinner, if the night pans out as it did tonight). As soon as I finish eating I go wash everything up again, and clear the kitchen again (see what I mean about the never ending washing up?). Before you ask, we can’t afford a dishwasher – every time we think we are getting ahead, something else happens – like the Microwave blowing up last night.

So yeah. Apparently because I’m rubbish and I do nothing, my other half has gone to a friend’s house for a couple of hours in between dropping the younger girls at Guides. While she’s out I’m carrying on doing nothing as per normal – I just loaded the washing machine, sorted the washing out, and tidied the kids room up (because it had gone beyond them being able to tidy it up themselves). While doing so I found approximately one thousand five hundred odd socks. The mysterious lack of school socks has suddenly been solved.

It’s now just before 9pm, and I’m sitting down for the first time this evening. This isn’t unusual at all.

If you find me hiding out in a quiet corner of the internet in the early hours, you’ll know why.

Oh, and just to end this post on a more comedic note, we summoned Miss 12 in from the trampoline before dinner to have a shower. How do you tell a kid she smells really bad without being mean about it? The injustice of being forced to have a shower caused the mother of all tantrums – she kicked her shoe off spectacularly en-route to the bathroom – it flew across the kitchen like an out-of-control rocket boot, and kicked one of the ceiling lights out of it’s socket. How we were not showered with glass is anybody’s guess. The world of Mum and Dad then fell on her head, causing all manner of fake crying while she had her shower.

She’s banned from TV, the computer, and video games until the weekend.

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