Every time I get stressed and/or tired I get that tune in my head... you know, its from the Simpsons, about the Betty Ford Clinic. (Iiiiii'm Checkin In).
This weekend has been awful. Everything has gone wrong. I've been second guessing everything I've done in the past six months. No, I take that back, since May. Since I moved down here. I dont know If I've done something seriously wrong at work, or if someone else has come in on a weekend to mate some dogs and not made sure the boy is locked away. I guess I'll find out soon enough. I'll get raked over the coals on Monday, flayed alive, and dipped in rancid vinegar.
The bitch is moving out too. Couldn't handle me trying to get her to pay her bills and help clean up. I must say I'm glad, and can't wait for it to happen, but its all happened on a shit weekend. She's had milk in the fridge that went off before new years. I noticed it the other day because it had seperated. Apparently its too much to get her to throw it out. And dont even get me started on the fortnight old chicken. That I put in the fridge. Three hours after it was cooked.
So the problems at work, coupled with the shit at home, is making me go insane. And I'm taking it all out on everybody else.
Pass me the booze.