I stopped by the grocery a few blocks from the house last night to pick up the giniling and milk plus a few odds and ends. I already had my laptop bag and purse slung on my shoulders before I got there, and I left carrying two grocery bags with at least 2 kilos of meat, etc. and a gallon-sized container of milk. In a normal and perfect world, I could probably ask the stepson to get it for me since it’s on his way home from school, but he resents being asked to do errands like that, even if he’s the reason why our milk supply has to be constantly replenished.
Along the way, I found myself humming a tune. For some reason or other, something in my head suddenly woke up and I was actually humming the beginning of a song, it’s refrain, etc. I had written all the batch songs — corps song for CAT and the graduation song, and our silver jubilee is in 2008. So there I was.. if I get to finish this song, it would be a nice jubilee song. IF I ever get to write it in the first place which will be difficult considering I don’t have a piano here, nor a guitar. But that can come later. It also depends if someone will be willing to arrange it. We’ll see.
By the time I started walking up the steps, my lef thand was beginning to shake from the strain of the milk. I hate it when the strain gets to me as I walk closer to the co-op. It seems I always feel the fatigue setting in just as the co-op gets closer. Tired from work, I plodded on, went up the co-op, greeted the little tyke and started cooking. During the meal he started throwing a tantrum I haven’t seen — he was actually screaming. I wanted to wring his little neck but I kept calm. It was one of those days that no matter how you love your son you just want to stop the screaming and finish what you are doing. We eventually got him to calm down. I finished cooking then the man of the house walks up the stairs, upset at me because he stubbed his foot and tripped on the telephone directory I stopped him from throwing away because I wanted to keep it handy in the attic just in case. So go shoot me, someone (maybe him) should’ve brought it up the attic.
I had to set the table myself because again, the stepson didn’t do the chore assigned to him. He was lost in his room purportedly studying. Yeah, right. I felt so exhausted by the time we all sat down for dinner, and there was Angel’s bath that needed to be taken cared of before I could actually sit down to fold his clothes which Alan washed the night before. A long night, it was.. one of those nights you wish you had two extra hands and an extra hour to do everything you had done. But it got done.