The mother person had her gallbladder removed last Thursday, and then we had a three day weekend which meant Dad was out needing stuff more than normal. I’m fucking exhausted.
Last week was crazy because I so much stuff to do for other people. The week before that was crazy, too. Add to that I’m trying to adjust to new medication. I am so fucking tired.
I sneaked off yesterday evening to the Viking’s house and slept. Seriously, I hadn’t seen the man in three weeks, and all I can do is sleep. I need four more days of that.
I hear my mommy friends talk about all the shit they do to be mommies, and my brain liquifies. I do about 75% of the mommy stuff, maybe 60%, and it is damn near killing me. On bad days you hear mommies screaming at their children to get in the freaking car, or they tell you have it so easy as a childless adult. (We really do.) If you mention being a parent being to much work they all tell you something deep about you changes and you need less sleep and your entire soul naturally becomes okay with devoting itself to another tiny, human-like being. Some times their eyes glaze over a little and they get a faint distant look in their face like I imagine a heroin addict would when they get a fix.
I know for a fact holiday weekends are a stressful, clusterfuck of extra work for mommies. I’ve seen it and even tried to help. THERE IS NO HELPING. Shit is going to go down no matter what.
I don’t care what mommies say. I’m an asshole. I want a rest. I don’t want to fight with a tiny-sized almost human about sharing or hair styles or why they can’t stab their younger siblings. SHIT IN THE TOILET. Seriously little human-like being. You’ve figured out all the remotes, the cellphones, and the Ipads, but shitting in the toilet after you’ve reached a certain age is too complicated?
I want sleep. I love sleep. And sex, I’m a big fan of sex. This is why I’m sticking to dogs. At least when they shit on the living room floor they don’t know how to take a picture of it, use filters, and put it on Instagram.