Stress and more stress…

I woke up this morning like a cloven hooved monster. Bad dreams plague me and I am not Doris Day at the best of times, so you can imagine how I feel when I wake up groggy and husband asked me thirty three different questions in a row like...
“Good morning do you want tea? Did you know you have to make fifteen phone calls today, have you thought of a new article to write for newspapers? Why does your hair look like that? Do you know whose pants these are in the linen basket? Have you decided when you are going to tackle your tax receipts?” and many more like that...bullet words spattering my half dead brain…I want him to die.

Ashley is worse, she wakes up like a mass child killer and you daren’t ask her anything till she is at least awake for an hour, as the result is a series of doors slamming and screaming…WOW! She makes totalitarian dictators look like one of the Von Trapp family when she is in full flight.

Husband still hasn’t got this little detail into his daft brain yet…even after 20 years he still meets her in the hall and shouts “hello pretty girl, how are you this morning” to which Ashley sticks up two fingers and shouts “Die you fucking madman!”

He really doesn’t know how to take a hint, he must have been raised by people who get up at 6am and skip around the house collecting flowers and singing pop tunes from the 1960s, which I know is untrue really as he was raised in an all male dominated house where the men were either involved in crime or involved in some scan or were in prison.

So I am a grumpy old woman today and its best if the world just fucks off till I am fully awake and can have a shower.