Kitty, tiredness, and few other things.....
So, I just had a, well, horrible week, can we say that? well, considering that I haven't stopped for one sec since Monday, I'd say we can (and I'm not talking about half a day off, I'm talking about not even one minute off kind of not stopping).
Any wonder? No, considering that there's breakfast to prepare (or help to prepare, depending on whom got uo first, me or mum), preparing the cat and the dog's medicines, (dog, one pill, cat, a mix of 4 medicines, injected in the mouth. guess who does it? the oen with a good saight and patience.). Checking my granbdmother's sugar level and calculate the insuline she needs to do (after having controlled she does actually eat, all the while listening to her saying how much her husband was "the only good thing in her life", how she "wnats to die so I'll not live without him" or that he's been so "good to take her even if he could ahve had anyone and he was such a ladykiller, and I was oh, so poor, and handycappated", which she is not, but I already argued with her about that once and I'm not gonna repeat the experience) and actually do ther insuline (because she forgets, because she can do it twice having forgetting, because she doesn't check if the whole insulin left the pen....)
all of this, between 6.15 and 7
then, there's baby cat to feed (Mino. little update: I'm weaning him! finally we are slowly moving to solid food, ie, he needs bottle-feeding only twice a day!), and, if there's nothing to do in the kitchen (unlikely) I can move upstairs to the bathroom.
Which, at this timne of the day, is already occupied by my younger brother, who's worst than the worse woman in the abthroom compartiemnt.
Yes, I mena he takes hours. well, not hours, litteraly.
Just 30 minutes, for real.
At thsi spoint, we are at 7.30, and I need to be out of the house by 7.45-7.50. So, I run, washing myself as quick as possible, taking as clothes the first acceptable things I find (I'm considering the Dylan Dog attitude, a wardarobe full of clothes, all eguals). No jewels, no make-up, there's no time.
I run to the car, and working with my father and Andrew, it emans we usually drive in the same car.
It also means as well that there are already isnide, chatting, anc complaining that I'm too slow. really.
Then..work (acceptable. everything is acceptable. really. I've never complained about the job).7
At 7.30, I'm back home- just had from 1 pm to 2 pm to have lunch- and again I check the sugar level in the blood, I do the insuline, check on the dog, looking if she is talking her medicine. help set dinner. ready, quickly. undone the table, prepare coffee.
It's nine.
I check on my email-finally - and read a couple of things., check soem things work-related.
10 pm. time for next control of the sugar in teh blood. same as before.
get cats and dogs ready for the night, feed once again Mino. half past ten.
I'm gone, I can barely keep my eyes open, so, i don't. I go to sleep.
Change of season. one minute is hot, the next one is cold. add insomnia in the mixx, you'll haveme sleeping at two o'clock.
Then...here we are again. another day, where, when there's not the job, there's the dcotor, the postal office, the bank, payments, bills, insurances, doctos, hospital, drigstore, pharmacy, the shopping to do. And...guess what? rarely tehre's space for something done FOR ME.
So, yes, I'm grumpy, and tired and on the verge of a small nervous breakdown (I'm losing weight quikcly, not a good sign, nevewr a good sign). and I'm kind of sick of people compalining because I'm moody!
Well, you know what? few years back I alwasy complained about turning itno an adult. Now? I'd trade that back!
(Are you exited there are just few hours left untill the Mentalist new season?)
Any wonder? No, considering that there's breakfast to prepare (or help to prepare, depending on whom got uo first, me or mum), preparing the cat and the dog's medicines, (dog, one pill, cat, a mix of 4 medicines, injected in the mouth. guess who does it? the oen with a good saight and patience.). Checking my granbdmother's sugar level and calculate the insuline she needs to do (after having controlled she does actually eat, all the while listening to her saying how much her husband was "the only good thing in her life", how she "wnats to die so I'll not live without him" or that he's been so "good to take her even if he could ahve had anyone and he was such a ladykiller, and I was oh, so poor, and handycappated", which she is not, but I already argued with her about that once and I'm not gonna repeat the experience) and actually do ther insuline (because she forgets, because she can do it twice having forgetting, because she doesn't check if the whole insulin left the pen....)
all of this, between 6.15 and 7
then, there's baby cat to feed (Mino. little update: I'm weaning him! finally we are slowly moving to solid food, ie, he needs bottle-feeding only twice a day!), and, if there's nothing to do in the kitchen (unlikely) I can move upstairs to the bathroom.
Which, at this timne of the day, is already occupied by my younger brother, who's worst than the worse woman in the abthroom compartiemnt.
Yes, I mena he takes hours. well, not hours, litteraly.
Just 30 minutes, for real.
At thsi spoint, we are at 7.30, and I need to be out of the house by 7.45-7.50. So, I run, washing myself as quick as possible, taking as clothes the first acceptable things I find (I'm considering the Dylan Dog attitude, a wardarobe full of clothes, all eguals). No jewels, no make-up, there's no time.
I run to the car, and working with my father and Andrew, it emans we usually drive in the same car.
It also means as well that there are already isnide, chatting, anc complaining that I'm too slow. really.
Then..work (acceptable. everything is acceptable. really. I've never complained about the job).7
At 7.30, I'm back home- just had from 1 pm to 2 pm to have lunch- and again I check the sugar level in the blood, I do the insuline, check on the dog, looking if she is talking her medicine. help set dinner. ready, quickly. undone the table, prepare coffee.
It's nine.
I check on my email-finally - and read a couple of things., check soem things work-related.
10 pm. time for next control of the sugar in teh blood. same as before.
get cats and dogs ready for the night, feed once again Mino. half past ten.
I'm gone, I can barely keep my eyes open, so, i don't. I go to sleep.
Change of season. one minute is hot, the next one is cold. add insomnia in the mixx, you'll haveme sleeping at two o'clock.
Then...here we are again. another day, where, when there's not the job, there's the dcotor, the postal office, the bank, payments, bills, insurances, doctos, hospital, drigstore, pharmacy, the shopping to do. And...guess what? rarely tehre's space for something done FOR ME.
So, yes, I'm grumpy, and tired and on the verge of a small nervous breakdown (I'm losing weight quikcly, not a good sign, nevewr a good sign). and I'm kind of sick of people compalining because I'm moody!
Well, you know what? few years back I alwasy complained about turning itno an adult. Now? I'd trade that back!
(Are you exited there are just few hours left untill the Mentalist new season?)