C'est Fini

I used to work 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week. I used to commute almost two hours each day. I used to listen to people bitch and moan and complain all day, while trying to solve their every problem with a smile on my face. I used to come home each day and make dinner. I also used to take care of the laundry, the cleaning of the house, the paying of the bills, and the dogs.

Now, I am a full-time mom, who works part-time from home, in whatever spare time she can muster. This job is harder. This job is the hardest job I've ever had... and I can't quit. I still get burnt out, but I can't quit. I still feel overworked and underpaid, but I can't quit. I still take care of all the other things in addition to my child's every need, and I still can't fucking quit.

Not that I want to. BUT... I would like a lunch break and two fifteen minute coffee breaks and possibly a two week paid vacation. That's all I'm saying...

This week started out rough on Monday, resulting in a little too much wine and a few hours missing from my memory. I'm not sure how it happened but I can say I am never drinking wine again. It just kicks the fucking shit out of me. Apparently I was still quite active during my missing hours and spent some of my blackness telling Jack's Daddy how much my life sucks and how everyone is bugging me and I just wish they would all leave me the fuck alone. Ooops. Now, I'm not sure exactly where I was coming from when I said this. If I could remember, then I might have a better idea. Yes siree. Too much wine is not a good thing. I won't even get into my other adventures. I think I'll save those for another day.

The rest of the week was spent recovering. I'm not even shitting you. I'm old now and I rarely drink. If I do, it's usually only a couple. Recovering from the world's worst hangover, with a toddler, who's latest obsession is to pull my hair out of my head or kick me in the ribs while I'm changing his diaper...has not been a fun experience. I know. I know. It's my own damn fault, but I prefer to blame in on the wine. Beer would not have done this too me. Kahlua would not have done this too me. But Wine...don't ever trust that bitch.

Anyway, I'm glad this week is over. I will be taking full advantage of Jack's Daddy being home this weekend, and plan to be away as often as possible. Well..away getting more stuff done that needs to be done...but away none the less.

I need a vacation. I need a vacation. I need a vacation.
(hoping that maybe if I tap my ruby slippers together it might work for me like it did D for OZ...)