Bitch, please

Today I didn't kick ass at work.  As a matter of fact, I got there late, and got talked into taking another shift on one of my days off next week.  Yeah, I need the $$$.  I don't need to be completely burned out to the point I'd like to scream "FUCK YOU!" to my customers, especially when they get fussy and snippy.

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The subject of tonight:

Hubby is hacking and clearing his throat because of the bronchitis he has.  He also complains about my housework and how it's making him ill.  The straw that broke my back was him complaining about his pen being misplaced, and complaining I should take a container of nuts to work, not the whole bag.

Ok, I get it.  I'm not as dense as he thinks I am.  But for fuck's sake, quitcherwhining about little bitty fussy picky picayune things.  Like pens.

I hate whiny.  I clingy.  I don't do clingy and whiny.  Getcher goddamned slimy-assed octopus suckers off me.

Stop repeating things.

Get your ass to therapy.

Accept that you're chronically depressed and need help, and being whiny, bitchy and clingy on me doesn't help you.

And as Ratatoskr says, "Calm your tits!"

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Highlight - my middle daughter (the Sagittarius) is visiting for the weekend.  We get along better now that she's living with another friend of ours.

But my bull-boy (Taurus, just like me) wasn't able to come home this weekend.  Transportation troubles.

Ratatoskr is asleep.

The Leo Princess is also asleep.

I don't know how The Empress and Her Retinue (The Oracle and The Angel) are doing; I hope all is well with them.

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I need to ask The Oracle (oldest daughter) about her take on the solar eclipse in Scorpio on the 23rd.  (We couldn't watch it because it was cloudy out here.)  I also want The Angel's take on it as well.  Hell, if Wonder Woo has an idea about it, I'll hear her side too.

Enough of the bullshit.  I'm tired and should get my fat arse to bed.