...and they continue to throw dirt at your face and then the worms eat you. Be glad it happens in this order.
And I am. Really I am, but seriously can I please get a mofo break this week? Pretty please?!
I don't want to get into a tirade of things that went wrong this week or how this week's been so stressful I hardly made it past 9pm when my dear husband finds me snoozing on the couch, mouth wide open, drooling on our cat's blanket.
I will also not elaborate in great detail how everyone else is off at work but the work keeps flooding in. After all, the job I have is pretty decent and I love the team. See Tuesday's post.
But what the fuck? My husband hardly ever gets called out when he is on weekend duty. But the one time he's organized tickets for a great soccer game and had his Dad flown in (this was supposed to be his birthday/Christmas present), that one time he gets called out.
If put in perspective I know I have no right to even open my mouth and things could be worse but "Dear timing, really?" "You suck giant, hairy donkey balls!!!"