Monday, 17 October 2005

Maybe I can have second best tattooed on my forehead...

I try not to do this frequently, but I'm having one of those days where everything seems determined to kick me in the crotch and leave me gasping.
Last night I threw in a load of laundry - the washer broke.
Dh is convinced it's something huge and expensive to fix, and is muttering things about 'being better to buy a new one' which is man-code for 'I don't want to mess with this'. I, on the other hand, am thinking 'And what money where?'
Things are tight right now, and I had another fruitless job interview today. I don't want to think of how many resumes I've sent out in the last three months.
Top it all off, both kidlets are sick as dogs. The boy-child has turned into a whining grasping bundle of tiredness, temper, and tears (he's a lousy sick person, just like me) and the girlie stumbles around, blowing bubbles of snot out of her poor clotted nose.

Now I know it will get better. I know that. I do. Sometimes, though, it's hard to convince myself that it will happen soon.

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