Tuesday, August 11, 2009

The day I discovered my best clothes went to the Op Shop...

...which is today. Wonderful. I'm just super, thanks for asking.

Oh! I was being sarcastic. Yes really! And I still am, and it's annoying me so let's keep it real.

I am soooo pissed off. Well I was, I'm better now because there is no way I would have been able to turn on the laptop, let alone write anything when I was in the middle of it. My tantrum, I mean. My tantrum I let myself have with my three month old bawling from the bedroom. Oh, I feel so guilty but I just couldn't stop...bawling myself, that is.

It's amazing how everything can change in a matter of minutes, or maybe it was even a minute, singular.

Soooo, up until the discovery, everything was going swimmingly. I've stayed in the house all day (apart from a very short walk with Sweeney and Tilly the dog, cut short due to rain), tidied up, sorted out dinner and even got a nap in earlier. I've got a beautiful blend of essential oils burning (frankincense, cedarwood, geranium and lavender for relaxing). I also have a nice cup of chai ready, along with a big bowl of tiny teddies, to tuck into as I open the laptop. All of a sudden I'm thinking about a bag of clothes a friend of mine returned a week or two ago. Right now I'm thinking hard but I cannae remember the trigger for this thought. This green coles bag contained two of my best dresses I have for weddings and stuff and an expensive blazer. My friend had borrowed them for a wedding and I suggested she take the lot.

it's just the kind of gal I am.

Anyway - back to today, sitting at my laptop, one second the slack jawed yokel staring into the distance then the next the crazy mo fo getting all het up and angsty before she's even searched the place. You see, when I'm like this there is no point in looking. I 'm positive that Asa has taken that green coles back full of my most valuable clothes and, without even looking, thrown them in an opshop bin. I mean it's so typical, him and his constant need to purge. I was fuming and bawling, doing a half arsed search from room to room, meanwhile my psycho harridan vibes have reached sleeping Sweeney who awakens and starts bawling. You get the picture?


By the way I'm only admitting this because I'm talking to no-one.

Sweeney joins me in my aimless pacing (one of us has stopped crying) as I call Asa's mobile phone about fifty times (ok, about ten) and leaving the occasional blubbering message or two (actually there were two). It was the only way I could calm myself down. I had to just do something.

After about twenty minutes I finally realise I am over it. I finally admit to myself that one of those designer dresses was $60 on sale (but $300 full price, ok!) and has never really suited me and that I haven't worn the blazer for at least 2 years since the matching pants went AWOL. And...

...Asa will probably find them.

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