I'm sitting in a hot car wasting my Sunday because the Harridan changed our plans as she wanted to keep the kid for a Saturday night gig. It's a win win for her as she gets to stuff us around as a bonus.
Letting him stretch his wings which is rare for her, she organised for him to catch a train and meet us at Box Hill station so as to come to the boxing with us. The Squeeze would then take him to school tomorrow.
I'm always wary of these changes as they are generally abortive organisational stuff ups. True to form, the time and station of choice has been shifted several times; this is her way to attempt to control everything; even if it is the utterly pointless exercise of trying to move just a station or two.
We got to Surrey Hills. The kid was no where to be seen. We got to Camberwell only to discover he missed the stop and is at Flinders Street.
WTF?? How hard is it to watch the fricking stations as they pass? Even better, she has somehow organised for us to leave boxing early and drop the kid across town to go to a soccer match with kid two.
I am sweltering. Thanks to that witch I am going to miss something I have been planning on doing for weeks; as I watch the window of opportunity diminishing with the wasted hours!
News. I won't be leaving the boxing early. Stuff the soccer.
The art of dating when you are in your 40’s is a perilous, soul destroying mission. I blame my misfortune with men on the 'fairy tale factor'... That never ending belief that love conquers all and that one day a prince will come. Reality isn't even close to the fairy tale. Especially when the prince doesn’t just come with baggage – he comes with a bitter, money grubbing ex-wife clinging to his back like a hump.
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Thanks. Better check it out but it should be up today!