I said to The Bean this morning, “It’s Monday”, and her response was, “No, it’s Thursday” to which I further stated, “It’s a Monday because there was a break in the week.”
Holy crap on sleet, snow and burnt toast! Just after seven this morning I got a heads-up that I may be walking into a shitstorm when I arrived at the office. Turns out that an attempt to aid a colleague confused her and had her here until after eight last night – on a public holiday. I apologised and she was understanding, but nevertheless, the day pretty much has gone downhill from there and I am over it. Seriously. Fucking. Over. It!
Thank goodness we are closing for our summer break tomorrow, because I don’t know how much more strain I can take. I am beyond exhausted, both mentally and physically. Aside from the pressure at work, I am gatvol of Covid-19. While I am not a big fan of the beach, I do enjoy a swim in the sea during my holiday; the beaches are now closed to swimmers, but open to surfers and fishermen. I wonder how the virus discerns between the different beachgoers.
I don’t have much planned for my holiday, other than spending some time with my folks and popping out to the farm to see Shayla-Rae, her mum, her hubby and my Goddaughter, Mouse. I will be able to spend some time in the pool there too, which is a win.
Anyway, I’m off to make myself a cup of Rooibos tea, because if I drink coffee and someone further pisses on my parade, I may just klap them.
I promise that my next post will be a non-rant.