So as I have
Then to add, there is some money tension, not so much lack of money, but timing issues...I am not a great budgeter to begin with, and I had some unexpected expenses come up (elder child's rent, extra day of vacation, boat repairs) so money is a bit tight, so I have had to delay some of aforementioned organization until I had the cash in hand, which added another level of chaos.
I had to rent a car to get my sister, nephew and I from the airport to our house...Mr. P drives a Suburban that I can't drive, and since my sister told me that she has to go to the Target parking lot early on Saturday to practice driving her new car, I wasn't thinking she was willing to drive the green bus through the city...anyway, when I was doing that I saw that my driver's license expires on August 2. fuck.
Then yesterday, after I get home from work and the grocery store, Mr. P says, "So when are WE going to renew the car tags?" I don't know how it works at your house, but when Mr. P says WE, he means ME. oh.my.god. I will fucking do it when I do it. do.not.ask.me.one.more.time.if.you.value.your.testicles. So FINE, this morning I go to the place to get my new driver's license and car tags...and for the love of baby Jesus, why don't people just get their shit together? You have to show proof of insurance to renew your car tags...it says it on the paper that comes in the mail, and there is a GIANT SIGN where you get in line. The clueless whore in front of me kept ARGUING that she left it at home and wasn't going to go get it. (To be fair, I am not sure she ever charged money for sexual favors.) Of course, she left with no tags. But she wasted 11 minutes of my time. I want compensation.
Then I go to get the driver's license. Everyone in that line seems to have their shit together, but they annoy me on a different level...they wanted to swap expiration stories. Do you not see me reading blogs on my phone? That is my signal that I do not want to talk to you. at all.
So after an hour, I get everything done and start feeling a bit better about getting my act together and I text Mr. P to meet me for lunch. While we are eating he says, "So when are you going to buy my plane ticket?" even now, that statement makes me seethe. Why? Why do I have to do every fucking thing that ever has to get done? WHY? I looked at him and said. "I WILL."
Then the waitress brought me LITE ranch to go with my salad. I wanted REGULAR ranch, which apparently they don't even carry but it was on the menu, so I decide to sue for bait and switch. My lawyer was busy, so I just had to get Thousand Island, because honestly LITE ranch sucks.
So I get to work, and pick a plane ticket as Mr. P says he will fly whatever/whenever. Well, apparently not quite whatever. So I call him and say, so then which one do you want? He says, "What do you think?" OH FUCK. I lost it, "How about you decide one fucking thing about this whole damn trip? All I want you to do is choose the TIME that YOU are flying. That is it." Then, after I book it, pay for it, and email him the confirmation...he emails it back to me at every.one. of my email addresses.
I just now decided that I needed a diet root beer to take the edge off, and wouldn't you just know that the damn soda fridge has not been restocked and is completely empty. I swear, I could stab someone right in the face right now.
You know there has been quite a bit of *wink*wink* action at Chez Potchery over the last couple of weeks, and I asked Mr. P about that yesterday....he said, "You have just been so nice, and not very bitchy at all."
mm. guess that ride is over.