Sigh. And things were going SO well.
I had a great weekend, a quick trip to visit a friend and her family in a nearby city. The weather was beautiful, the kids got along, the dogs romped together like puppies. It was great to see my BFF and her hubby.
Then, yesterday, I was home with the kids again, surrounded by dirty laundry, un-unpacked suitcases, and a messy house. The girls were bickering. We had to go grocery shopping and return a bunch of books to the library. I was trying to quickly clean the bathroom before we left. I squirted the blue toilet bowl cleaner and looked around for the toilet brush, but it wasn’t there. Suddenly this was just the end, the last straw. Where … is … the … goddamn … TOILET BRUSH!!!
Fuck it. I wanted a drink. I really, really wanted one.
I went and sat down in the living room. My dog jumped up on my lap. I stroked him as I raged inwardly about how it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair.
After awhile the feeling ebbed a little.
Then I got the toilet brush from the other bathroom.
I cleaned the toilet.