Late Saturday night, I got a bad feeling and after checking some stuff, my bad feeling was confirmed. I was going to have put out some serious fires at work on Monday.
I spent Sunday doing whatever ineffectual things I could do to try to make this first day more bearable: made the baby’s lunches for the week (took about 5 minutes since he won’t eat more than 300 calories a day), chopped stuff for dinner for the next few days, cleaned the bathrooms, did one pitiful load of laundry. I also fretted. A lot.
Sure enough, when I got here it was all like this and there were a bunch of these and maybe I yelled at some people. I’m not proud. I am, however, having some trouble quelling some homicidal tendencies.
I’m also starving because I spent all morning dealing with said fires and didn’t get a chance to eat anything.
Is it summer yet?