Three weeks in and yes, I’m blogging while I’m at work. I think that at 4:25p one should be able to do what one wants until 5:00p. So I am.
The next thing I don’t do well is: fit in with a political office of professionals. Oh wait, I am one. Shit. The difference is that I’m not a good politic. I don’t like it. Say what you mean people! If there are unwritten rules, fucking write them down so I don’t break them! Jesus, I feel like I’m in church. I keep waiting for something I can do well, but so far nothing has worked out, and this is no exception.
On the kid front, my daughter is home packing and plans to move out at 8p. Why you ask? Because I’m a crazy bitch and apparently being upset with her for skipping school, getting in trouble with a teacher for being mouthy, (different day) and not keeping me posted on where and what she is doing is too damn much for her to take! Is it bad that I’m kind of excited? Yea, I thought so. She’s 17, I really don’t have much recourse besides being a bitch! I’m supposed to go home after work and “talk to her”. What I really want to say is “don’t forget to write!” (Side note: I have no idea whether the exclamation point goes inside or outside of the quote). I also got a text today from my son (17 too, remember?) who is staying with a friends mom becuase he hates his dad and I will not let him live with me, (another looooong story) and their pipes burst so he needs a ride to take a shower. Really? WTF else. I am tired. Tiiiiiiiirrrreeeeeeeddddddd. I don’t have the capacity in my body to care or act like I care. I want to be left alone to knit, watch violent TV and yell at the dog.