Written @ 6:33 p.m. on 2007-06-03
Poor Me
Annoying, bad day today. Perhaps if I write a really negative diary entry, then I will feel *~BETTER~*.
Today, I discovered that I am running out of money, and I have no income coming in for a few weeks. So, I started cooking with the weird ingredients that I had in the back of my cupboard. For breakfast, we had instant oatmeal. Then we made peach cobbler. N. didn't like it. What KIND of KID doesn't LIKE peach COBBLER?!@! Then I made falafel from a box of falafel mix from I don't know what year, and hummus, also from a mix. Hummus from a box is yuck-o. Falafel from a box is yumm-o. I fed it to the kids, with some cucumbers, and told them that it was what Aladdin and Jasmine ate. N. bought it. P., my darling cynic, traded for N.'s cobbler. I told her that Aladdin and Jasmine NEVER eat cobbler. In fact, I have it on good authority that Aladdin is allergic to peaches.
The girls dressed as princesses and amused themselves. The plumber never came. I waited around all day for him. The landlord acted surprised when I called him. "WHAT? It's not fixed? Giacomo said it was all taken care of."
"Well, it's raining in my house, sir."
"Oh. Jeez. Let me call you back on that. Is it cool enough for you to turn off the air conditioning? No one is coming out today."
"Already did that. New leaks are developing."
Grrr.
A new leak is developing over my computer. I had to move the whole desk.
The girls called their father three times before he returned their call today. He was polite, though. I have been mulling my options all day. Perhaps mulling isn't right. Perhaps seething.
B. had a great day today. He got all his guys in for a training session together, and was having great fun. Grrr.
I wanted to go to the country today, and walk in the creek, and climb on old trains, and play on the big playground under a big country sky, with wildflowers and happy butterflies, but...I waited for the plumber. Plus, I was afraid to use the gas.
Harrumph. Harrumph. Harrumph. None of these things are catastrophic. I'm just in a mood, I guess. It will pass.
I'm really mad at my ex. That's what it is.