I am tired.
The more you run on the treadmill, the behinder you end up being.
I bathed my baby, she was wonderful, only a couple roll episodes in dry spots until this morning...she found a mud puddle.
Of course I had 4 hours of sleep, woke up to concentrate on her before I left for work...and of course I was not looking forward to work.
My mud hen was so proud of herself, it is kinda hard to be upset with her.
All the work over the last year trying to get “Flouncer” to improve, and bingo not only has she whiplashed backwards, her attitude and treatment of me has spun out of control into the void of resentful silence or sinister wickedness.
Unlike the pleasant sensation of the merrygoround, work is one long drawn out instance of withstanding passive aggressive nastiness from a supposed adult. If I was to try to put it into words, it would sound so juvenile that one would wonder wtf?
The mud I can understand, but it is a microcosm of the whole situation, “rinse and repeat”...do the work Flouncer can't do, try to keep major issues from involving customers and all that for the ecstatically cheap rate of 1/3 of her salary... ...I am definitely tired.