Early Mornings and shopping

There's nothing like coming into work early only to realise that your network connections are not working and you've not nothing to do until support fix it. I love it. So here I sit, typing this up in a txt editor waiting for some explanation as to why the network connections are acting up. Still, an early morning is a great way to start the day. Up at 6.30, showered and out the door for 6.50. The joy of no lunches or walks to the school bus.

Plans for the next few days have required a hasty readjustment due to the ovaries annoucing their return to my body yesterday. Months go past and not and then suddenly, they want action. Demanding biatches that they are. I wasn't even expecting them to make themselves known for another week. The best laid plans. I should have had an idea. I don't normally look at every bloke within a 10 yard radius as potential jumping material. The body is a strange thing. Luckily our man is a available and is coming up to our place this evening. Dinner plans for tonight and tomorrow
night were moved. And we'll see how things go. Its the least prepared I've been. Not an ounce of green tea has passed my lips. I'm unsure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

We had to get in touch a mate who we were supposed to be visiting tonight for dinner and move it to Thursday. Her response "Ovulation already, isn't she a bit early? " Followed by "Hmmmm, I think I know you guys too well" Grocery shopping was the order of the day yesterday after work. The only reason I mention it is , not because I've run out of things to say and I'm making small talk in my post. The reason I bring it up is to ask why, oh why do the people who look after supermarkets insist on changing stuff around. And not just swapping the rashers with the sausages. Oh no, that would be waaay too easy. The cleaning fluid and the milk. The cereals with the alcohol. Imagine the face on the little tyke as it climbs into its high seat expecting Rice Krispies and getting a bottle of bacardi.
It took me 15 minutes to realise the petit filous had high tailed it down the back of the bloody supermarket. It was a very upsetting expierence all around.

Mammy2 didn't seem affected at all. Thankfully, I wasn't taking it as badly as some. One poor fella, last week whilst we were shopping, came up to the nearest attendent in a visibly agitated state and demanded to know where the cornflakes were. Meanwhile I was the picture of calm, with the odd wide eyed " What the feic is that doing there?" and calling for Mammy2's assistence to make it to the next aisle. Clearwater, go at your own peril.

Chances are the place will look the exact same once they've finished. Refurbishments my eye.

Less then 2 weeks to the kids birthday and Pride. I'm refraining from thinking about it on the offchance I implode or explode. A number of things to be done before the 2 big events. The main one being the kids bday pressie. We've checked out the shop and it appears to be in stock so purchasing will be next. She's been in grand form since the gig. The boyf was up yesterday and had the lovely task of helping us carry the shopping up. They hung out. For hung out read threw each other around the room. What is with teenagers and they need to wrestle?

She has left a pile of CVs on the dinner table , I assume its in advance of us asking is she has applied anywhere else. A pre-emptive, Ah her CV is out so she must be looking. Crafty feicker. I was amazed when we got home that the washing up had been done. I stuck my head into the room whilst herself and the man were jamming on their geetars and thanked her. Her response:
"No worries, do I get my pocket money now." She could have pretended she did it out of the goodness of her heart.