Slacker

Post rate has dropped off like a medieval monk's willy, though not from overuse. I have been superwoman. Really. Briefly.

The infant off-colour, unable to go to school. Play Florence Nightingale in morning then go to work for pm/evening shift.

Following day up at four-thirty to be in the office by 6:00 to get the essentials covered to race home so that The Idiot can get to his job and get the essentials of his role covered. And find him lounging about with a leisurely cuppa and fag and not yet actually dressed for work (at 11:15). Thanks.

Play Florence Nightingale for four hours until rescued by returning Idiot, fresh from slaying tons of paperwork. Return to office for supervising newest New Starter, who is not at all like our Fat BNP poster-girl. Actually seems to have grasped some of the essentials. Feel less un-cheerful about prospect of being able to take any of this year's leave before it expires in April.

Repeat above experience on Friday.

Repeat Wednesday's experience on Saturday. Am too tired to chase Tom which is SO unfair. Not too tired to wonder whether he did really want me to chase him or not. Reflect that we've still a couple of Saturday evenings before heartless Paper-Shuffler-in-Chief wrenches us apart.

Family Day on Sunday which is absolutely the worst of the lot. Dragoon the lot into unplugging TV/entertainment crap, dismantling everything, packing boxes of crap for rubbish or recycling (charity shop), create much turmoil and shout a tremendous amount. Achieve heaps.

Reprieve Christmas. How fucking stupid is that? I hate Christmas.

This morning decide offspring is well enough to go to school - I need a day on my own.

Muck up departure time this morning so get to Dreary Nearby Major Shopping Centre later than planned. Finally notice phone is chirruping at me.

Calamity. Class-mates fainting left, right and centre; dropping like flies according to school receptionist. Idiot dispatched.

I am Christmas Shopping. I hate Christmas, I hate Shopping. If I stop now I won't get started again this side of Christmas 2008. I plough on heroically.

I buy too much. I have no money left.

I hate fucking Christmas so much.