Today has been one of those days.
I woke up a bit late because I was tired from a late night at work yesterday and Jamie was running around like a headless chook.
“Beth… BETH! Where’s my purple tie? It was on the hanger yesterday.”
Having not been awake for more than ten seconds, I was a bit more concerned about running through the process of making sure my body was fully functioning and then that my daughters were alive, well, and cared for. Jamie’s purple tie was not really on my priority list.
“Beth! Tie?”
I took a drink of water from the bottle beside my bed, “I’m not your maid. And you need to use your manners. I don’t care if you ever find your purple tie because it is YOUR purple tie, you look after it.”
I felt pretty proud of myself, I woke up and within two minutes, I was spitting fire like a fucking boss. This is new part of my personality that has evolved over the last couple of years that I call, “Take no shit Beth”. I’m like Lawyer Barbie with a potty mouth and a pissy attitude.
Jamie found his tie, it was over the chair in the study where he’d left it the night before when he was planning his outfit for the day. He apologized because I’ve got him reasonably well trained.
He had gotten the girls ready for their day and I dropped them off at school and daycare before heading to the train to get into the office.
I got to Milsons Point station and then found out that there was a track fault so we sat at the station on the wrong side of the Sydney Harbor Bridge for about twenty minutes and I was inevitably going to be late for my 10:30am meeting.
Did I mention that our electricity has been out for 5 days since the storm? Thankfully, we have solar panels and a Tesla Powerwall, so the electricity problem hasn’t really impacted us, but if it’s not repaired by the weekend, we’re going to have parts of the day where we’ve not got enough electricity to power ourselves.
I got to my 10:30am meeting with about 3 minutes to spare and my assistant had my coffee ready and waiting for me so that was a plus, maybe things were looking up.
Yeah, no…
The client came in and had a complete meltdown. We were destroying his business, he was going to lose millions, his wife was stressed out, and I was pretty certain we were soon going to be charged with being the root cause of Coronavirus.
He seemed to glance over the fact that he was in breach of the contract that he signed and was being sued by his customers.
After the meeting, I was walking back to my office and my assistant began chasing me down the hall and saying my name in a loud whisper, “Beth! BETH!”
I’d had enough of people saying my name in an aggressive manner already today, so I stopped and turned around, “WHAT!?!”
She came to an abrupt halt and was clearly flustered, “You have a spot on the back of your skirt. I think you’ve had our period.”
I wanted to crawl into a cupboard somewhere and die. How hard would it have been for this young lady to make the decision to tell her boss this and then to have me bark at her for trying to help me.
So I did what any self-respecting woman that was menstruating would do, I cried. While I was crying, I started to laugh hysterically. I was standing in the hallway, seemingly at the low point of what was already turning into a terrible day, and I was behaving like a red hot mess.
I reached out and hugged my assistant. As I was embracing her, I apologized. She took that moment to whisper in my ear, “Your nylon has run down the back of your leg as well. Sorry, Beth.”
More laughter and crying on my part as we stood there hugging.
I finally released her from my clutches, hustled my way into my office, grabbed my gym bag and my “emergency period supplies” that were tucked in the bottom drawer of my desk, and scooted off to the bathroom to change. I looked at my nylons, the run was massive and the spot on my skirt was eerily reminiscent to the shape of France.
When I got back to my desk, I stuffed my clothes into my bag and decided that it was lunch time. I made my way to Dominos and ordered a large Pepperoni and Mushroom pizza and a 1.25L bottle of Coke. I’m a relatively small lady, but I can pile away the food, so I destroyed that pizza and let out the loudest almighty burp in the history of pissed off chick burps.
I couldn’t be arsed going to the gym, so I headed back to the office and declared that, “Fuck it, I’m going home.”
My assistant cancelled everything I had planned and I summoned an Uber.
I’ve been home for about an hour, I’ve had a shower, and I masturbated three times as the water poured over me. I went into my secret stash of toys that nobody knows about, got out my suction dong, mounted it to the glass shower screen, backed onto to it and used it to fuck myself silly for the better part of fifteen minutes.
Now, I’m laying on my bed, downing my second glass of red wine and waiting for my Mom to bring the girls home to finish off my day.
I’m relaxed now, so I hopefully the rest of the day will be better, but some days just suck and today, I decided, “Fuck it, I’ve had enough!”
Wow what a bad ass lady.
I will have to stop driving into work so often and go back to using the North Shore Line as my default option. The thought of somehow sitting beside this force of nature would make every commute a exercise in anticipation.
an exercise