"Must I always be playing your fool?"
I've got PMS. I'm really crabby and there's no one online on my Yahoo list to bitch to. Don't everyone click 'available' at one time, I know that listening to me bitch is a tempting offer. I'm butt-ass tired tonight. I, of course, did my Friday thing and cussed at the road ahead of me for having to go to WalMart on a Friday afternoon. At my husband's old job, payday was Thursday and that was great. I could pick the check up bright and fucking early and get everything done and be home by 1. Today, I left at 1:30 and got home at 6. Not good, friends...not good. And I just talked to my mom and they're bringing up a dresser for Leah tomorrow. So now, not only do I have to clean my living room and mop my kitchen floor and pick up the shit that my dumbass dog has drug out in the yard BUT now I get to clean Leah's room and move her chalkboard into the living room so we can put this dresser in there. It's too much, people! Too much! Fuck this shit, I'm making margaritas.