Day of rest, my ass.
Sundays are the only day that all of us are home together.
It's also the one that drives me totally ragged. Just after coming off a 16 hour shift the day before as well.
It's a day of grocery shopping, ice skating lessons and whatever horrors that the family can cook up for me to do.
Speaking of cooking-it's Sunday dinner too?
I want to know the asshole who thought of that bright idea.
I was doing Ok, my only big plan aside from the Sunday basics, was to take the kids to the Holiday Flea market.
Horst then comes up with the paper, even before I am finished with my first cup of coffee, to ask that I take him shopping for Christmas.
Just a few hours ago, while at work, I had a person I worked with slowly and loudly eating a banana next to me.
And I really couldn't tell them to knock it off. Professionalism and all.
It was almost enough to make me jump out the second story window.
This might be the one that puts me over the edge. especially if Horst insists on the bulky packages.
However I do have a plan.
Bring him to UPS and sit in the fucking car while he ships it.
Ok, I would love to stay and write more about the tortures and torments of Sunday family day, but I just looked at the clock and it's time to go.
Best get this over with..Pray for me.