In addition to crying from 9-11:30 every night, waking up starving at 3am, and throwing a fit before naps, Iris has decided to start her days at 6am.
I’m so tired I blanked when someone asked me my name. I make up new syntax and words. Carl informs me that my driving isn’t exactly up to par.
I briefly considered storming out all huffy (which my autocorrect, by the way, insists should be spelled “Judy”) this morning, but the drama of the thing gets kind of lost when you have to set up breakfast first. I mean, you can’t leave an invalid hungry. How rude. And you certainly can’t leave anywhere without a carefully packed diaper bag. How foolish.
Zero storming for me.
I don’t even know who I’m trying to show. You can’t really be mad at babies and invalids. I guess I’m just pissed at the world.
I need a bagel.
I need a bagel from Panera. If only, perhaps, because I need at least one goal today that I can actually achieve. Also I need carbs.
Now… If only I can remember how to get there.