I can't believe I'm 11 days older than that last cake. No wonder I'm irritable.
My life seems to have been turned upside down, I'm not sleeping until late, that is 1 a.m. late and not getting up early. Three days visiting the Home and I had to go out on Friday of the pouring rain and freezing cold wind that was so strong I could barely close my big gate. Mother did appreciate the two new nightdresses and the hot party pies with sauce. Friday lunches are never the best down there.
Politics are irritating me no end. Please let's get it done and then on with the revolution. I refuse the watch the debate going on tonight. Irritation levels would rival Chernobyl melt down especially since favourite programme will now be on late. Another irritation, I love 'Grimm', the new season started with two episodes which then went back to one at 11 p.m. And this after two stinkers of reality shows that should be dumped in the nearest bin. Also another irritation, shows running over and football shows are the masters of this. Any show I want to see which comes after football, add anything from a half to an hour later. And then to add injury to the already infected irritation, put on an encore of the revolting show you refused to watch the first time.
My sister is irritating me and has done for quite some time. Her taste in men hasn't improved since the ghastly drug addled twit she brought home at 17. She was going to save him from himself. And so on from there. Irritation is the reason I buy her birthday presents in January for the September date because by then I'm ready to plant her one right between the eyes. I fixed that irritation by buying Mother another 6 dvds.
Cold callers on my phone are irritating. Three times in the past 5 weeks I've had the Telstra call that tries to scam my pension number out of me. Unfortunately for them I learned my lesson from last year. Same old scam about how much I'm going to save on phone calls and they'll just hand me over to their supervisor and that's when I let loose with the abuse. Another pizza parlor has opened nearby with close to my phone number. A call for a pizza late at night has me dribbling with desire, damn phone numbers. Another new one is for funeral plans. Now I'm used to that during the day or late at night on tv but phone calls? I tell them I'm not having one, if I'm not going to be there to eat cake, no-one else is. Then there's the solar heating mob, charities asking for money and the one I love most, wanting to speak to the head of the house for an outstanding opportunity to increase the wealth of the family. Yes, I should renew the stop on these calls but it's so much fun to abuse the call centre especially when they take the trouble to announce that they are calling from Melbourne.
Another very minor irritation which really isn't an irritation since families remember birthdays and happy days but death days fade away with time. I thought maybe one would remember my boy died 18 years ago yesterday but perhaps it's better they didn't. A new baby in the family makes for looking forward and not looking back. And the cat hugged me when I cried anyway.