WARNING: THERE WILL BE EXCESSIVE USE OF THE WORD “FUCK” IN THIS POST. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY THE WORD “FUCK” PLEASE STOP FUCKING READING.
I hate Mondays and I hate mornings. My morning began at 2:00 a.m. when upon going to bed discovered my delightful son had crawled into MY fucking bed, sans me, of course, as I was busy jamming out to Napster and beading, and had wet MY fucking bed. Nate still has a problem with nocturnal wetness and boy did he piss a fucking flood. *Growl*
I had finally worked myself to fucking exhaustion on the fucking car and the fucking beading and all I was looking forward to was going to fucking bed, only to find my son swimming in a sea of fucking urine which most fucking delightfully will have now soaked all the way through to the fucking floor. *Growl*
I know he cannot help this but this did not stop me from being fucking irritated as cranky bitch on her period…. oh yeah, which I started yesterday. *Growl*
After having mopped up the best I could and having sprayed the fucking mattress with Shout, and spreading fucking towels, which were fucking clean, but now are fucking dirty, which means I will have to fucking wash them again! *Growl*
Normally, when I start said fucking red curse of hell and damnation, it takes a while for it to get going so I was unprepared at nine fucking thirty this morning to already have a major crisis on my hands. *Growl* Fuck.
Then, I had to go pay my fucking property taxes, which is a fucking racket if you ask me. Thank you fucking government for punishing me for being able to afford a car and a house and anything else you can fucking tax! 120 fucking dollars just to pay the fucking taxes and the license fee. Fucking racket. *Growl*
I went by the shop and no one was there. I said, “Fuck it. Not going in” But, now, I wish I had gone it because I’m fucking missing a vial of beads. *Growl*
Did I mention it is fucking hot? 82 fucking degrees at 9:45. *Growl*
So, I get home and attempt to fucking bead, which normally calms me down, only to find the beads I had bought were translucent instead of opaque and, while pretty, just don’t go with the other bead I wanted them to go with. So, I used another bead, fucking starting over again, discovering, as mentioned above, that I was missing a vial of fucking beads. I doubt they are at the shop. They are probably in my fucking car, which looks like a fucking dumpster right now.
Nate and I decide we need food, so it’s off to fucking Taco Hell, where we sit in the fucking heat for over 15 minutes only to get the wrong fucking order. With drive time, wait time, and fuck up time, 45 fucking minutes of my life wasted on Taco Hell. Then I didn’t like the fucking food.
I hate being on my period during the summer. I feel fucking dirty ALL. THE. TIME. YUCK! I’m fucking done now. Back to beading. Bzzzzzt!