Blah Blah Blah

That's me tonight. Blah blah blah, because writing in my blog will help me to procrastinate better when it comes to paying my bills. This is more fun, anyway. Day two of the TV ban, and I'm not jonesing quite as bad as I was yesterday. Not quite, but almost. Fuck. I am glad my children will be at their father's house this weekend, because I need some mindless Cake Boss in my head. Since I haven't been able to either make it work at all for part of the month (thanks conference, flu, and strep throat) or make it to work on time or work an entire day (thanks orthodontist, dentist, child psychologist, and after school arts program), I had planned on working late tomorrow night to try to make up for some of that time, and besides, Guy #1 has to work tomorrow night, so I might as well be productive at work, too. But now... I'm thinking I am going to come home and lay my ass right on the sofa with remote in hand. Even if I haven't read that much this week, I've written some, and that counts, right?

Mrs. Second Grade Teacher sent extra homework home with the older daughter today, and gave us the whole weekend to get it done. Yay! So now I can send that homework over to her father's house where it won't get done. And we will get to do tons of homework on Sunday night. Really, I need to figure out where this woman lives and go shit on her front porch. Seriously. With copious amounts of liquor this can happen. Actually, I'm such a lightweight these days it would only take a couple of shots. And I would do it naked, too, because liquor makes me take off my clothes. This would go back to why I'm a lightweight, which is because I've learned that I can't just be randomly getting drunk and undressing. And the whole stretch mark thing.

I am also now annoyed with Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher, because I paid money to get a class photo of the younger daughter's class. Pictures came home this week and the older daughter got her class photo, but nothing for the younger daughter. I very nicely wrote a note to Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher and asked her to send the class photo home this evening in the bookbag. I get home, open the bookbag and nothing. No class photo and no return note. Unorganized bitch. As I was writing the note this morning, I wondered if Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher and Mrs. Second Grade Teacher are friends, but decided they can't be lunch buddies because they go to lunch at different times, unless Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher goes down to the Teacher's Lounge to eat lunch during kindergarten resource time, which is probably pretty close to second grade lunch period. The intricacies of being a bitch to one teacher without it rubbing off on her teacher friends is working out to be somewhat complicated. At any rate, if I don't get a class photo after tomorrow, then I will be moving Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher up on my shit list.

My shit list, you might ask? Ahhhh, the ever-evolving shit list. Currently, here are the standings. If I were a math geek and could keep track of all of my shittiest interactions, I would attach some statistics to this, but I took remedial math all the way through college, so there won't be any statistics. Here goes:

1. Mrs. Second Grade Teacher - have you read my blog?
2. The Ex - just general principle on this one.
3. My former neighbors, but not my Other Mother - imagine me singing the word assholes, because that's how I like to describe them. The Ex and the next door husband had hooked up routers and connected to each other's Limewires a few years ago, and so we could see what each other was downloading. The Ex and I were downloading music and concert videos (U2 at Red Rock is THE BEST!) but the husband next door? Porn, porn and more porn. What a freak show. I came to the conclusion that he.does.not.get.any.ass. which I thought was awesome, because if I were that guy's wife, I wouldn't give him any either. I am NONE TOO HAPPY that The Ex has arranged for the children to have a slumber party as their house tomorrow night because he's got some stupid band thing. Way to arrange your life around your children, dickface. I am confident the band thing will end up being gay and at the end of the night, after a successful set list and a bunch of half-drunk forty-something women panting all over The Ex, he and I will both know his dick is still small and he won't take his cholesterol medication. Okay, that even made me laugh.
4. A couple of people at work I don't like who won't quit sending me emails about shit I haven't taken care of. Really, the more you bug me the longer it's going to take me.
5. The elementary school room mothers for both of my daughters - Would you please stop being so fucking chipper. It's grating.
6. YMCA summer camp people - I am still pissed off from last summer. It's a slow burn.
7. Estranged family members - I suppose they wouldn't be on my shit list if they weren't estranged, now would they?
8. Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher - Either I need a class photo pronto or my eleven dollars back. That eleven dollars can buy me 2.3 gallons of gas, dammit. She might still be mad that I pretty much ran her off the road a couple of months ago, but jesus, lady, learn how to merge. It didn't help that my younger daughter was in the backseat frantically waving at her as I saw her out of the corner of my eye white knuckling her steering wheel as she was forced onto the side of the road.

And there we have it. Today's shit list. I wish I could figure out how to do the little up and down arrows beside each one, like they do on the music charts in magazines and such. Maybe I'll make this a weekly thing. Or maybe not. I'll probably forget in a week, or maybe next week I'll do the Not Shit List.