And so today I was cleaning, which I hate to do, but the cat hair tumbleweeds were ridiculous, and I blame my recent insomnia on the need for sparkly clean linens, and I made a giant fucking mess.
I was dusting the new shelves the husband put up above my new, small, unbroken desk, when I noticed I had too much stuff piled on a tray rack that was precariously perched on the lower shelf. So what did I do? I took a giant book, put it on the top tray of the rack to tidy up further, and . . . TADA! Down comes the rack, smashing right into my nice glass full of seltzer water, spewing glass bits and carbonation everyfuckingwhere. Ugh. It made cleaning take even fucking longer. And all I kept doing was saying variations of motherfucker and fucking fucker while I was tidying up. While the girl periodically popped in, asking me if I needed help. Her love of language, she gets that from me!
On the plus side, the glass shattered in the cat bed, so I got to throw that away instead of trying to clean out the glass and cat hair. You know, because I worry that the cats would come to harm.