Skip over the first bit - I was in a mood!
2007-04-18, 10:59 p.m.
SUNDAYJust about ready to scream with frustration.
The very last day of my time off work, which I had hoped to fill with amusements, family niceties and other unseasonably warm weather pleasurable pursuits, has been largely ruined by the total fucking uselessness of my family.
BF has been a total cocksucker all day. Don�t get me wrong, the wedding�s not off or anything like that � hell�s teeth, if I made it my life�s work to not marry a cocksucker I wouldn�t have ever married Shagnasty; a man more fitting the term it would be hard to find. The kids have been a nightmare, too. Not naughty, just a pain.
First thing this morning, Treac asks for yoghurt and fruit for breakfast. I made her a big bowl of chopped up fruit, topped with extra creamy fat free quark and she asked if she could eat it in the sitting room (ie in front of the telly) instead of at the table. I said, �well, I supp-ose so, as long as you don�t make a mess, and you must help me tidy away first�. As I was tidying up the fruit peelings and such, she was charged with carrying the big pot of quark back to the fridge. A distance of 6 feet. When she was no more than 3 inches away from her destination, she dropped the pot � lid off, splatters everywhere. It looked like the last reel of �Cum-Shot Frenzy�.
She ate her breakfast at the table while I cleared up.
I asked BF if he would put up a curtain pole for me this morning. A curtain pole which has been propped up in the downstairs hall for about two months. He said he would. But first he had to go see his friend the Conservatory Planner. A couple of weeks ago we hired a chap to come and draw up some plans for the extension to the garage-which-will-become-a studio and the conservatory/bar/dining room. The plans he drew up were very nice but he clearly knew nothing about conservatories as the structure he drew, being roughly the size of the original
Crystal Palace , had no visible means of support.
A hearty slamming of the kitchen door (say, after yelling �You are SUCH a cocksucker!�) would�ve seen the whole fucking lot tinkling into shards quicker than you could say Nick Lowe.
BF and I drew all over the plans to get a better idea of what we wanted but our design brief is fairly technical and neither of us are particularly experienced in this sort of work so we�d agreed to get some professionals in to help. Hence, off goes BF to see his friend, who runs one of the biggest conservatory businesses in the area.
In the meantime, I do some laundry, clean the bathroom, take Jooj to a party, buy some curtains, make Treac�s lunch and am just about to go out again to collect Jooj from her party, when BF comes back. He parks his car and jumps out. He says �God, its hot! Im going for a pint! But first I�ll show you these� and with a flourish he produces his friend�s plans. What appears to have happened is that the friend has faithfully reproduced our pen drawings, using a fancy-schmancy CAD programme. No innovative designs have been created, no effort has been made to correct all the many design faults which we knew existed in our drawing. No possible alternative layouts had been suggested. Three hours to do��.nothing. I blew my stack. Not at BF, but at a supposed �expert� who just couldn�t be bothered to do anything to help. BF went to the pub. I went to collect Jooj from her party and then came back home. Its now nearly three o�clock. I start peeling veg and stuff for tonights dinner. BF comes home. He�s redrawn the plans to show a much better solution to the structural problems we have. He�s redrawn them in blue biro.
WEDNESDAY
Well, Ive calmed down a bit now. Phew, I was SO in a temper. Although, to be fair to me, by the time I wrote that bit above, I�d also dealt with a couple more family-based fuck ups including a sponsorship form for a sponsored walk which has been in Treac�s school bag for two weeks. Aaargh.
Anyway. Everythings alright now and I don�t really have much else to report except that Ive now seen two conservatory salesmen. One tried to hit on me as soon as he got in the front door and phoned me at FIVE TO EIGHT this morning to offer me a bit more discount. The other one was a bit more professional � we�re seeing him again on Saturday to get a price on what we want. He was able to do the complicated roof we want and suggested brick pillars before I even had a chance to mention them (the other guy was too busy patting my arm and sitting a bit too close).
BFs dopey sister, Suze, has decided to ask her boyfriend to move in with her. Yup. The same boyfriend who ruined Boxing Day for us and who wasn�t even on the scene six months ago. If she didnt have two daughters who are severely fucked up from witnessing the demise of their parents marriage, I would suggest that maybe she gives it a go but I cant believe the mentality that assumes �I like him. The kids�ll like him.�. Liking someone�s kids is so different to being with them as, like it or not, a surrogate parent. It was a big step for BF, even tho his kids are similar ages to mine and we�d been together for nearly four years before we lived together. Maybe we were over-cautious but, well, umm, you don�t know Suze and J (and their collective abysmal track records!).
Going to see Hayseed Dixie on Friday with Nice IT Guy and his girlfriend and Slavey and her BF. Much yayness will abound. Oh, and I have a planning meeting for work on Friday afternoon which involves FREE LUNCH IN A SWANKY HOTEL. *sigh*
Til then
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