Wedged innit

I forgot to tell you that i spent a moment of my August 1st, WEDGED (and we all know how much i despise being wedged, even when i’m reigning a couple rungs down from my ‘Ultimate’ status.) Anyway yeah…i was wedged in the right hand back of a teeny tiny crappy,  driving school grey fiat, with bright orange writing sprawled across it, with 2 pooing kittens in a GIANT carrier on my knee, a ‘too big for the space’ box squeezed to my left, that had a delightful mound of ‘covered over with a bin bag, because it was filled with cat litter’ ontop of it, with every kind of bag, box, rucksack, grocery shopping and half empty pop bottle down by ankles, with the driver’s seat pushed onto me, as far back as it could go…and my little child car seated bambio strapped in the front passenger’s seat and me with my fucking seat belt on.

If i hate anything i hate being ‘wedged.’ I’m highly claustophobic. This isn’t a good way to begin August. Loverboy’s already managed to annoy me this morning by being far too lazy for his own good. YOU’RE 25 ..not 60!!! If we need to leave at 9.30, he’ll wake his lazy arse up at 9.20 and leave me to tend to all the baby Ruby ‘tick’ boxe.s Lovely

Now my bum’s being bitchy. UGH! I hate that i can’t do a thong now. Previous preggo-ness really did get the better of me.

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