Yesterday was an overly stressful day.
Work was an absolute nightmare.
There were some pretty awesome moments in there, like when the children had finished digging up their fossils and they exclaimed with delight before naming their dinosaur; or when I received a ten minute cuddle from my little man who I love to death in the afternoon just before I was about to leave. The moment he wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes it makes me instantly relax and forget about the day.
I arrived home to my little sister, who is staying with me for an entire week. I began to organise with her friends father what was going to happen with the girls for the Easter Show and discover he wasn't actually going to stay with them at the show, but if he needed to he could. I'm sorry but they are fourteen and I don't think they should be going to the show alone, particularly when they are not from Sydney. So because of his lassez faire parenting style, I said that I would take them. Even though I was really looking forward to a day off from my sister over my long weekend.
So today we are going to the show. They want to get there about lunchtime. Fine, I say. Then I am informed they want to stay until the fireworks. Not a bloody chance, I say. I will want to be heading back home at seven. My sister began to chuck an 'its-not-fair' campaign and I stop her; we have to walk home from Central station and it is already dark by six, so no, we will not be staying until nine or later, I respond. Then I get an 'oh'.
I honestly don't think she realises distance.
Then I am asked to take her shopping at Penrith. Um, sweetheart, I live in the city. Why on Earth would you want to go west to go shopping?!
That's where I am at. Annoyed. Incredibly fucking annoyed that I don't get to relax for even one day on my four day weekend.
Oh and I haven't even finished unpacking yet!