FUCK!

God fucking dammit! Somedays there is just nothing that you can do right. Or sometimes it just all gangs up on you in about half an hour and you're so fucking ass sore that it just feels like they've been going all day. My husband is all bitchy and high strung because he's working too much, but there's nothing that either of us can do about that. My kids don't understand the concept of "don't stop at your friends house on the way home" (although today I will forgive them. I wasn't home when they were trying to leave school and Brandon was wheezy. fuck. fuck. fuck) I'd left my iPod, the one thing that allows me to clean house without going stark raving mad, at my mothers, so I'm back at my parents house with a car full of kids trying to explain why we can't go in. I'm about ready to scream from the constant bombardment of "why can't we..." or "I want to..." or simply whining in the back. Enter Husband on cell phone, I'm in a tricky patch, can't hear clearly, make the HUGE ASS FUCKING MISTAKE of asking if he was asking if I'd gotten the kids because I forgot that I have his fucking cell phone and the office wouldn't have been able to reach him any way. So now bitchy husband is all up my ass as I try to explain what the fuck is going on, the kids are still moaning in the back of the fucking car, and asshole decided that I'M TOO FUCKING SHORT WITH HIM, and hangs up on me! FOR FUCK'S SAKE CAN'T I GET A FUCKING BREAK! And he wonders why I don't want to tell him when things aren't going just peachy. Sometimes I am soo tired of always being the reasonable one, the one that bends over backwards, and says I'm sorry even when it isn't my fault. I just want someone to understand that my life is not all peaches and cream just because I don't have a fucking punch card and to admit that I'm allowed to be a little short sometimes. That IT IS TO BE EXPECTED. I aught to be allowed to lose my fucking temper even, without being seen as a maniac! I feel like I take it from all sides and the moment I slip and allow a little temper to show, I'm the one being unreasonable. I fucking hate it, and I'm about to go ballistic the next time it happens. Which I really don't want to do, because I KNOW why he's all bitchy and ass sore in general. And it's not all his fault. But damn it! He could try to have a little patience with me for a change. Sometimes I think I would give just about anything for a little patience and understanding when I'm having a hard time and about to lose it. Someone to tell me it's okay and calm the fuck down because it's not that bad, it's just a fucking cluster fuck, and it's almost over anyway. 10 seconds of "are you okay?" "I was just calling cause I missed you" or even a simple "I love you." would have made my day a thousand times better and I wouldn't be sitting here at this computer crying because I can't say it anywhere else.

And then I got home and my devil of a cat had managed to get into my wool lace yarn. Again.

Fuck.