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Feb. 13th, 2008 10:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valancystirlingI am so pissed off right now. It's just been a series of stupid irritating things today.
The last couple days my digestion has been screwy, in the same ways it was before I had the Maya abdominal massage. So I'm not sure if I'm just eating a lot more crap than I realize, or if the weight of the baby is finally compressing my intestines, or what. So fucking irritating.
This morning I set the alarm, got up early, got Topie up, and after much stressing about being late, went to nursery school. To find that for some reason unknown to me they are closed. I have no idea what that is about.
So we turn around and go home, only to discover that Jake's parking ticket has to be dealt with by TODAY. So Topie and I turn around AGAIN and go to the courthouse, only to find that Jake didn't sign the ticket, and I have to re-deal with it. She said they allow for mailing time, so I'll just mail it.
And then we get home and Topie announces that she has to pee in the potty. While peeing in her clothes. So the one day she actually looks like a psychopath did not dress her, she pees all over the whole thing. She may never look that cute again.
And then just the general constant irritation of her dragging shit all over the house, leaving it there for me to pick up/trip over, and her charming interest in dragging every DVD we own out on to the floor, opening every case, and scattering the discs everywhere. While demanding to watch a movie. And all the nagging things that have been on my to-do list for way too long that are making me suddenly feel like I can't breathe. Is three years long enough to change your last name on a social security card? Apparently not, because I still haven't gotten around to that either. Nor have I changed my passport, nor have I gotten one for Topaz.
And upstairs does NOT look in any way like a room to have a baby in, it looks more like a room to throw crap in and leave. Which is essentially what it is. Clean laundry piled up on the floor, next to the pile of dirty laundry, next to the pile of shredded magazines Topaz created, next to the countless stupid kid books everywhere, and on and on and on. God forbid I ever go into labor at this rate.
Whine whine whine. And Jake is irritating the piss out of me lately with all his admonitions that I need to prioritize better. He just doesn't have any concept of how many things I get done in a day, even on a lazy day when I feel like I've done nothing. OF COURSE those things are prioritized. Maybe not in a tangible way that he can look at on a piece of paper, but it seems pretty obvious to me that I prioritize everything I do on an hourly basis. The fact that he says he won't take me seriously until I show some signs of prioritizing makes me want to hit him in the face, as if it fucking matters whether he understands my methods of getting stuff done. Maybe if he wouldn't constantly bombard me with pointless shit like parking tickets to take care of, I would get even more done around here. So that he and Topaz can come in and destroy it in five minutes, of course.
Fine, I'll admit to being quite burnt out lately, and so I'm spending much more time online in the last couple days than I have in ages. I need a break. It's just not possible for me to sustain the level of productivity I have kept up the last few weeks. At this point it's more important to me to relax more, take it a bit easier, think things through, and not pressure myself so fucking much. See, my PRIORITY. So if all that comes before sorting laundry for a few days, then so be it. LEAVE ME ALONE.
The last couple days my digestion has been screwy, in the same ways it was before I had the Maya abdominal massage. So I'm not sure if I'm just eating a lot more crap than I realize, or if the weight of the baby is finally compressing my intestines, or what. So fucking irritating.
This morning I set the alarm, got up early, got Topie up, and after much stressing about being late, went to nursery school. To find that for some reason unknown to me they are closed. I have no idea what that is about.
So we turn around and go home, only to discover that Jake's parking ticket has to be dealt with by TODAY. So Topie and I turn around AGAIN and go to the courthouse, only to find that Jake didn't sign the ticket, and I have to re-deal with it. She said they allow for mailing time, so I'll just mail it.
And then we get home and Topie announces that she has to pee in the potty. While peeing in her clothes. So the one day she actually looks like a psychopath did not dress her, she pees all over the whole thing. She may never look that cute again.
And then just the general constant irritation of her dragging shit all over the house, leaving it there for me to pick up/trip over, and her charming interest in dragging every DVD we own out on to the floor, opening every case, and scattering the discs everywhere. While demanding to watch a movie. And all the nagging things that have been on my to-do list for way too long that are making me suddenly feel like I can't breathe. Is three years long enough to change your last name on a social security card? Apparently not, because I still haven't gotten around to that either. Nor have I changed my passport, nor have I gotten one for Topaz.
And upstairs does NOT look in any way like a room to have a baby in, it looks more like a room to throw crap in and leave. Which is essentially what it is. Clean laundry piled up on the floor, next to the pile of dirty laundry, next to the pile of shredded magazines Topaz created, next to the countless stupid kid books everywhere, and on and on and on. God forbid I ever go into labor at this rate.
Whine whine whine. And Jake is irritating the piss out of me lately with all his admonitions that I need to prioritize better. He just doesn't have any concept of how many things I get done in a day, even on a lazy day when I feel like I've done nothing. OF COURSE those things are prioritized. Maybe not in a tangible way that he can look at on a piece of paper, but it seems pretty obvious to me that I prioritize everything I do on an hourly basis. The fact that he says he won't take me seriously until I show some signs of prioritizing makes me want to hit him in the face, as if it fucking matters whether he understands my methods of getting stuff done. Maybe if he wouldn't constantly bombard me with pointless shit like parking tickets to take care of, I would get even more done around here. So that he and Topaz can come in and destroy it in five minutes, of course.
Fine, I'll admit to being quite burnt out lately, and so I'm spending much more time online in the last couple days than I have in ages. I need a break. It's just not possible for me to sustain the level of productivity I have kept up the last few weeks. At this point it's more important to me to relax more, take it a bit easier, think things through, and not pressure myself so fucking much. See, my PRIORITY. So if all that comes before sorting laundry for a few days, then so be it. LEAVE ME ALONE.
