this too shall pass

Stræberen by Leif Grønhøj

grrr. sometimes everything is just so irritating that you want to scream!

your bra doesn't fit right.

you can't find your garden gloves.

people keep asking you where stuff is.
and you have no idea.
or can't be bothered to explain.
since you're looking for your own gloves.
and if you knew where stuff was, you wouldn't be looking for them.

your child wants to be waited on hand and foot.

which you know is your own fault, since you usually wait on her hand and foot.

but that doesn't make it any less irritating.

the wind keeps blowing the straw you're trying to put out around the strawberries away.

and the straw is making you sneeze.

the chicken wasn't done when you called everyone to dinner.

and your soufflé fell a little bit during the waiting.

there's nothing on t.v.

and they changed the whole online t.v. guide and now it's buggy as hell.

and on top of it you can't find anything.

and all these petty irritations make you lose the awesome happy buzz you had after  a two hour guided sculpture tour in the sunshine (more about that tomorrow). 

and it all makes you wish, just a little bit, for menopause to come already so you can be done with PMS.

tho' you're still irritated at that stupid dutch hairdresser for suggesting you were already menopausal for coloring your hair dark last summer.

whatever.

this too shall pass.

but a cocktail would help.