Because fuck! Yes. It's been that kind of a day. The kind where you have to walk around muttering fuck every few steps just so you don't bite the person standing beside you. And yes, that means I have reasserted myself as the neighborhood asshole. Fuck it.
*Last night, just as I was pondering how my toe finally felt better, it happened again. And it is Mr X's fucking fault. Again. Because for the 2nd time in like a month? I smashed my foot into something that he left lying around instead of putting away. Last time it was his suitcase. This time the treadmill which? Fucking hurt a whole hell of a lot worse. Although? Maybe that's because I already hurt my toe? Someone please do me a favor. Smash your foot into the hardest part of your suitcase. If you can, catch part of your toe on the wheel. Ok, now smash your other foot into the metal leg of a nordic track. Which one hurts more?
Everyone had gone to bed. I went to get on the computer. The light always takes a moment to come on. This time it came on in time for me to see just what the hell had taken a bite out of my foot.
He's supposed to fold that thing up when he's done. He always does.
So, there I was lying on the floor with my foot in the air yelling 'BITCHASSMOTHERFUCKER!', when I realized that my daughter could hear me. Great. At least she knows not to repeat it.
Then I thought? Fuck it, and continued the glorious chorus of fuckityfucks and bitches.
I also, briefly, contemplated going upstairs and shaving every hair off of his body as he slept.
Instead I ranted about it to some friends who are probably sick of hearing about my fucking toes.
*We don't get HBO. Yes, we are too cheap for anything but basic cable. So, I've been renting the shows that all my friends rave about. Right now, I'm hooked on six feet under. Shut up, I know I'm so behind but whatever.
Anyway, I went to the video store this morning on my way to get Hurricane's pictures done. Grab what I think I need and go to checkout. We paid for this program where you can rent 3 DVD's at a time for free. The new releases after a brief amount of time and all the old stuff anytime. It's supposed to automatically renew every month but because we had to get new bank cards (whole 'nother story), it didn't. I hand the kid my card to renew it and..........
I crashed their fucking computer.
He reboots, but it's all messed up and he can't print or check it out.
He was getting really frustrated and looked like he was about to cry. I told him I'd come back later because I had an appointment, but he handed me the DVD's and said he'd handle it.
I think I broke him.
I had to go back later as I realized that I was missing the season finale, only to find that, while they have every other episode? They don't have this one.
What the fuck?
And, to make it all complete? She tried to renew our thing again and?
Yup. Computer crashed.
I'm a jinx.
We've gotten some really great pictures of Hurricane. Those biker pics? So cute. But it took great timing and a lot of patience.
And with a foot that was throbbing (fuck) and a slight feeling of guilt for making that kid cry, I was a little short on patience.
Have you ever handed a kid a cupcake and told them they couldn't eat it?
That's what asking Hurricane to hold still is like. He looks at you like you are absolutely out of your mind.
He tried to jump off the little platform about 7 times before I finally told him to go ahead but "If you crack your head open don't come crying to me!!" He looked at me and laughed. I think he's catching on to how utterly ridiculous I am.
She got a great shot of his butt in the air. It was originally going to be a smile over his shoulder. At the last second he bent over to do his yoga.
There's the shot of him stuffing his hand down his pants to play with his third leg.
I briefly considered asking her to keep that one just to freak out my MIL.
There's the one where he is intently studying the prized boogie he pulled out of nose as though he had just discovered where they buried Hoffa.
It took some time, but we did get some really cute pictures without his butt, his boogers or his hand down his pants.
*I came home to blog and of course Blogger was down. I am again considering moving to typepad. However? I think I'm just too damn lazy.
*My ribs hurt from trying to rake out those deep roots. My ribs? I mean really? My arms I get but ribs?
*Another round of "how did these people end up here?"
So, apparently I can be found when searching for NAKED BITCHES, dive boxes (which I finally looked up because I didn't know what it was but I was kind of scared to know. I mean, I thought maybe scuba gear, but considering I don't know anything about diving and looking at how some of these other people found me? I was worried it would be some really kinky sex act that I wouldn't be able to get out of my head), men in panties (?????), "She had enough vodka to make her feel sexy" (really? What the fuck? Because I'm thinking, is there enough vodka in the world to make me ok? And I don't drink! Although, I'm thinking maybe it's time to start again), "Why Mrs X died" (Kind of freaking me out because last time I checked? I was still breathing. Wait.... no, still breathing), sex diary (ha!) and a nasty case of laryngitis (Hell? Call the freaking Doctor!).
And I'm tired.
Tomorrow? I'll tell you about our 'fun' well-child visit where I considered what it would take to make a diaper childproof. And by tomorrow? I mean someday.