Crap Cluttering Up My Head

Yesterday was an alternately productive and unproductive day. I did clean the kitchen thorougly and did a load of laundry - yes A LOAD, which is actually fairly pittiful as this household can produce 3 loads of laundry in one freaking day. I have no idea how that happens, some kind of laundry mojo, but it happens. Last week I got all of the laundry done save two loads of miscellanous non clothing crap. By Monday the laundry room was bulging and I had to call in two midgets to hold the door closed so I wouldn't have to see it. Sadly the midgets got drunk and I had to kick them out then do some laundry.

Laundry Delima

Generally I don't mind doing laundry but recently I've come to an point where I don't fucking want to fold laundry. I will continue to WASH and dry laundry, piling the CLEAN and fluffy laundry on the sofa in hopes of it magically folding itself and finding it's way upstairs to be put away. I think this is some passive agressive attempt to get someone (K) to help fold laundry (and not just HIS). It doesn't work. Men don't get subtle. So the laundry languishes on the sofa for a couple of days before it drives me to hit the bottle and since I generally don't have much booze in the house I have to resort to actually folding the fucking laundry.

A pox on thee foul linens! Stop vexing me so! Ah well... deep cleansing breaths... must do the Zen thing... the laundry is only as bad as I let it be... Yeah RIGHT!

Moving on...

Who Would Shoplift Yogurt On Sale?

Last night we went grocery shopping, it's an evil necessity and it was a better option than sending Super Girl to school with a lunch of multi-grain crackers with jelly, some stale white cheddar popcorn, a few sad looking grapes and a bottle of nasty beer. Off to Albies we go. They have this cool self scan thing so you can scan things as you shop. I like this as I can keep track of how much I'm spending on wine and Nyquil and balance it out by spending the same amount on food for the offspring. Last night I was not feeling to damn good. Someone was tampering with a voodoo doll of me and my stomach was hurting. (time to start making voodoo dolls of people again... I even have someone in mind, might not be the person stabbing my doll, but throwing this person in the dryer will definitly make me feel better and less likely to get a gun and head for a clock tower.) By the time we hit the speedy check out lane with our $49.33 worth of yogurt and hooch, I was in no mood to be messed with. I did all the stuff to have my information downloaded from my scanner so I could bag shit up and pay when the checker/attendant/service person over the SELF CHECK OUT came over and said that she had to check my basket. She randomly scans a few items in my basket and says to me "Did you scan all of the things in your basket?" giving me a look like "Oh I just caught you trying to steal." I very crossly told her that yes I did scan everything in my basket. She goes back to randomly scanning items in my basket and giving me the "You are a lyeing thief" look which is pissing me off and making me want to smack her or just walk the fuck out (which I could not do as I HAD to have my wine and Nyquill.. I mean, bread to make Super Girl's lunch with). Finally I tell her I'll just scan everything again and shove my basket over to the check out. I scan everything again and guess what? The total is STILL $49.33. A-Fucking-Mazing, I wasn't trying to steal yogurt after all. And honestly, if I WAS going to shoplift some groceries, it sure as hell wouldn't be $2 worth of yogurt and $3 worth of lunch meat, I'd be hiding $20 worth of prime rib or something! Also, I sure as shit would not be bringing the family along on a shoplifting spree... "Okay officer, can you let me give my kid a dollar to call her auntie? Okay Super Girl, call Aunt D and tell her mommy is going to the pokey and she needs to come pick you up then find a nice bail bonds man to get mommy out. Can you remember that?" Fuck them. As we walked to the car K said to me "Did she just accuse us of trying to steal?" I assured him that she did infact imply we were trying to shoplift and K said he would write the division office and complain. Which is a good idea even though I'm very good at writing coherent and to the point complaint letters, I think he should this time as he's much less likely to use phrases like "mutha'fuckin' carton of yogurt", "fucking store" or "smug little cunt".

Mini Vacation

I leave Friday night to see XXX. I'm excited, I haven't seen him since mid January and I miss him quite a bit.