Coming back to work from a three-day weekend is a horrible torture for me. Especially after such a wonderful one. This past weekend was one where I really felt like I was doing everything right. I felt like I was doing a great job at being a mom. Then Tuesday rolls around and I was in such a foul mood at work, which never happens to me anymore. Sure, I get irritated about things but I was so mad that I actually had to have a co-worker/friend edit an e-mail I was sending so I didn’t end up pink slipped due to cussing out a manager.
And it’s hot here. I know it’s July and everything and this is normal but the heat pisses me off. Monster took his time getting into my car at the babysitter’s and honestly, I was just plain done by about 5:30 pm EST. But I did my best and tried to persevere. I think my grouchiness was rubbing off on Monster though. Everything seemed to be pissing him off. At around 6 he was asking to watch Caillou and you know what? I turned it on for him.
The Before Me, the version of me I was whilst still in a relationship with my Ex, would have felt like a terrible mother for resorting to turning on the TV this early in the evening. I mean, we have to stick to our schedule, dammit! But the Now Me thought it perfectly reasonable for two grouches to turn on the TV and veg out for a while simply because there’s nothing longer than the first day back from a three-day weekend (well, except for the first day back from even more time off).
Then I read him an extra book before bed to make up for the brain cells he lost by watching all that TV. I guess it all evens out.