Three days...

I have three more working days left until my vacation. I have been counting down the hours and I am now down to 25 1/2. That includes lunches and breaks. I truly feel like never going back. I most likely will, but at the rate things are going, it doesn't look good.

I'm tired all the time, my house is a mess, my kid is cranky, my husband gets on my nerves more often than not, and I'm broke. All around things are going well. I need a vacation by myself, but considering I am not able to leave the house by myself without an inquisition unless it is to go to the grocery store, I doubt I will ever get some time alone. Today I sliced my leg open on some legos that Miles had set up in the reading room. My ex-husband is having marital issues (shocking!) and feels the need to share them with me, which is just totally awesome. Wait. Did I mention my car is broken? I hate my job. I rarely see my best friend (love you!). And I am a dried up, barren old hag. And then there's that other thing, which I don't think about as much as I used to, but when I do it is all I can do to not drive far away. Good thing I don't have a car.

Off to feel sorry for myself some more. And make dinner.