So, errand running has been a breeze and errand running has been a breeze because the BED STILL HASN’T ARRIVED! Argh! Incompetent delivery folk really do get on my nunnies. I want a pet Sumo Wrestler, so I can make him greet them at the door and wrestle them to the floor, whilst eating chicken drummers, until they apologise. ‘Yes, Christina. I 100% promise, especially since you’re 9 months pregnant, that your bed will be arriving tomorrow.’ It is almost 3 o clock. They have 2 hours to get it to me…Something tells me this ain’t going to flow as nicely as I need it to. At least I have headboards now. No bed. But a headboard, in fact two. Plus, I was told that my new wardrobes were to be coming tomorrow and now it seems they will be venturing to me NEXT WEEK. What is wrong with people?? Why say tomorrow, if you mean tomorrow of 2072. I guess it’s all about the sale and i make it quite clear that I will refuse to purchase anything that does not arrive promptly..I’m like that anyhow, yet when pregnant, the whole point is that I need to arrive before the baby does. I’m fuming!
Then to make it worse, I tried to be a do gooder and give my quilt to a recycling bin, but I couldn’t fit the goddamn thing into the giant metal slot. It was like trying to wedge my ego into a plughole. I heaved. I hoed. 😉 I moaned and roundhouse kicked my way, in dying hope to get that fucker into the tank. Nope. So, i hair-tossed, thought ‘bollocks’ and left it half in and half out…and went to buy chicken…that I wished was GIN.
I was hoping that i wouldn’t get told off by the quilt brigade on my way out, however luckily, some lovely being had shoved it in for me. (Yay! I love it when you’re rubbish at something, then someone comes and saves the day and does it all for you, in the correct manner. I can luckily blame everything on being pregnant right now, so I need to use it to my advantage around…bins? #sexy)
Anyhow, before errand running began, there I was all exhausted, but hanging in there and my mum came around to aid me headboard carrying. She was much calmer when I drove her into town now. She trusts my driving skills and well..it makes me feel goood. She deserves to get driven, instead of having to look after everyone all the time. My poor mum actually ended up having to watch the shop for the owner, whilst he tended to my heavy lifting for me. 🙂 She always gets herself into those situations. No-one leaves me in charge of their stuff and simply because I have a face that means trouble…even though i’m a delight. 🙂
But yes, before we left, Pete got SCREAMED AT by my Mother..for a good 25 minutes and I’m talking NINJA-HUBBA SCREAMED AT! It was actually really stressy, to the point where I had to leave the room and it was only down the phone. #yikes. So Pete’s been upset over the fact that he is being referred to as ‘Daddy Pete,’ instead of just ‘Daddy’ and Keiran…just Keiran.’ I knew it annoyed him, yet instead of confronting me about the issue, he decided to secretly train Ruby behind everyone’s back, so she will learn the way things need to be. Which includes her calling my mum…’Barbara.’ Ouchy! My mother LOST IT. Ruby is her entire world and she provides, lvoes and bends backwards and then some for her, which is more than anyone else, including myself even…does. Pete’s really lucky because he doesn’t have to pay for Ruby, he doesn’t have to see her when he can’t, or he doesn’t feel like it, he doesn’t have to do the sleepless nights, the disciplining, the educating…the having her over, the paying child support, or contributing to the £800 a month nursery fee. Making his role…less powerful. My mum put him back in his place, lets say. You never want to get on the bad side of a Wunna.
Surprisingly, he actually brought up the ‘Daddy Pete/Keiran’ thing and well my mum stuck up for Keiran like he was her life, her son, her world! All i heard as I sat on the steps like a little girl was ‘HE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO BE CALLED DADDY. HE DOES EVERYTHING FOR HER. HE LOVES HER. WHERE ARE YOU WHEN SHE CAN’T SLEEP, WHEN SHE’S GOT A FEVER, WHEN SHE NEEDS A CUDDLE… YOU’RE NOT ANYWHERE! YOU CAN’T BE RELIED UPON. HE’S THERE FOR HER ALL THE TIME. HE HAS EARNED HIS TITLE AND WELL IT’S JUST THE SAME AS YOU’RE SITUATION. YOU CALL YOU’RE MUM & DAD, ‘MUM & DAD’ AND THEY ARE NOT YOUR BIOLOGICAL PARENTS. YOU GET IT, BECAUSE YOU’VE EXPLAINED TO ME THAT YOU CALL THEM THAT BECAUSE THEY ARE THERE FOR YOU. RUBY HAS TWO DADS. HE IS HER DADDY AND YOU ARE HER BIOLOGICAL DAD.’ It went on for ages….and because my mu didn’t like the fact that Ruby called her ‘Barbara.’ (Which Pete taught her.) It’s more that just a title, or a name call. My mum literally does EVERYTHING for Ruby. She has the best of everything because of my mum and well Pete’s mum won’t even let Rubes stay over the night, let alone run around the world backwards just to get something that will make Baby Ruby smile for a second.
It was drama..and set the standard for the day. *Imaginary rum here*
Then there’s people on Jeremy Kyle, who i’ve chosen to litter my background noise, who are moaning because they once had sex with a guy in a car park and is now mad that he takes no responsibility for the child that was made during that distinct moment of romance 22 years ago. SHOCKER! If you bonk men in car parks, then you can’t really complain that he is irresponsible, when you both we’re sort of irresponsible. The chances of him wanting to buy you the diamond and put a ring on it, are slim, when you’ve put out in a Punto, outside Netto..or wherever.You need to be more careful. Then to make it worse….he wasn’t even the dad and there were 3 other options. Jesus! And all of this as the 22 year old girl, sits in her chair in tears, because she doesn’t have a dad. I need a ticket off this circus of destruction. I might need to go into labour, just so I can have a brief lay down by myself. Yeah, it might be a hospital bed…but whatever…it’s a lay down innit. 🙂 An ouchy lay down, but i’d have much more peace than I have today. Where’s my BED!!
Oh! THEN I randomly glance over my online bank statements to find out that Specsavers have been taking TWO DIRECT DEBITS OUT OF MY ACCOUNT. Lol. Could today get any better! I might as well pull my frillies down and kicked up the arse by a big old leather boot. I called them and the lazy insisted that it must have been a mistake on my part. She looked. It wasn’t. But ofcourse the correct person i need to speak to is not in, meaning she had to take my number and call me back. That famous line that ends with no help at all. UGH! I’ll be calling them in a week, if I remember. So remind me.
No bed, no wardrobes, double money gone, bad telly options…massive stressy shouting…Lord Knows what’s next. How can I get through this sober?? I need to relax, I feel ultimately stressed. I enjoy how delivery folk state that if you are not in when they call to delivery your good, they will charge you £20 each time they have to reschedule. That’s a laugh. How about ME charging THEM £20, each time they fail to make a delivery date. I would’ve already made almost £100.
Today is ridiculous…and my fake tan tanned one hand dark mental brown, whilst the other chills in ‘medium.’ Splendid.