Another 7 Day Work Week

In this economy, I suppose I should be thankful to have a job, but being taken advantage of feels rotten regardless.  Management was supposed to have a temporary employee arrive today to help.  We’ll see.  On a bright note, the new management team is now allowing the employees to wear blue jeans and open-toed shoes.  This was forbidden during the “last administration”.  I’m suspecting “the man” wants us all to be comfortable while they squeeze the last drop of effort from my tired old bones.

And Poof! It’s Gone!

Summer that is. Three out of the four kids start back to school next week. B1 is now a high school junior, B3 is heading for 7th grade and B4 will be joining her in middle school as a 6th grader. B2’s school doesn’t until the following week (public school).

Something happened to July while I was still wondering where June went.  Seriously, I’ve never had a summer pass by so quickly. I’m blaming too much work at the day job.  “The man” kept piling it on and stupid me, tried to keep up with it all. My evening and at times even my weekends became theirs. I even worked some during my vacation. I am such an idiot at times.

Well, this week, I kept my hours to normal and didn’t get half as much done. And, if they want it all done, then they’ll have to hire someone to do it.  Stick a fork in me cause I’m done. I couldn’t do it if I wanted to (and I don’t want to) because school is starting.

I’d love to write and say I’ve finished another brilliant novel, but I haven’t done any writing. I’ll start back this week cause honestly, I needed a summer break too. I even picked up some extra notebooks and pencils for when I’m sitting at football and softball practice.

In other news B2 made the high school JV volleyball team and B3 made the middle school volleyball team.  B2 is back playing travel softball with a new team. It’s good to watch her play again, but she is a little rusty.

B2 has the back underneath portion of her hair dyed purple.  It was a compromise because she wanted her bellybutton pierced. Not a chance. Teenagers! (mom spitting with contempt for the little buggers).