Friday, 24 May 2013

FFS Friday - My clothes are shrinking, or not.

Hello Friday! I've been so confused this week and have had no idea what day it is. I blame Tiger, he usually leaves on a Wednesday but he left on Saturday this week and it's totally confused me. Add to that my wonderful prego brain and I've got no chance. I didn't realise till 10pm last night that it was Thursday.

Thanks to my prego brain I keep on forgetting to link up with Sarah for my FFS Friday post. Clever.

Last Friday I put on one of my new tops and realised it had shrunk. FFS.

I'd only paid $12 for it so thought to myself "that's what you get for $12" and went about my day. Saturday morning I put on another new top (this one had cost me around $60) and it too had shrunk. FFS.

I was about to complain to Tiger that my clothes were shrinking when I realised that the clothes hadn't shrunk at all, my belly had grown. FFS.

Gotta love my prego brain. It makes life so much more interesting.

Monday afternoon whilst Chai was asleep one of those super annoying charity door knockers rang my doorbell. FFS.

Luckily for him he didn't wake up Chai. Not FFS.

I'd seen them in the area so didn't bother answering the door. Not FFS.

That evening at 6.45pm our doorbell rang. FFS.

Stupid me opened the door and it was that bloody door knocker again. FFS.

Turns out he was from WWF and of course wanted money from me (only $1 per day for an indefinite period of time!) FFS.

I was in the middle of getting Chai ready for bed which he could clearly see but that didn't stop him. FFS.

He started talking about birds that fly over the house and drop honkey nuts and asked if I'd seen them. When I told him I haven't he was incredulous so I explained to him that we've just moved here, I also added that I didn't have time to talk but he continued on whilst I contemplated shutting the door in his face. FFS.

When I told him I'd just moved from Perth he replied with "Ohhhhh, we don't like Perth people here." FFS.

Apparently it's all the development in Perth that is making the birds fly overhead and drop honkey nuts. Naturally all the development happening in the southwest and the suburbs around me has nothing to do with it. FFS.

Somehow the honkey nuts getting dropped is killing animals and soon there will be no animals left. FFS.

I told the idiot I didn't have time to talk and started to close the door. He told me I'm a "cool chick" and it was great chatting to me. FFS.

Where do they find these people? You'd think they'd at least choose people with basic communication skills. Any idiot knows that insulting someone is not a good way to get them to give you money. FFS.

I'm going to make up a sign for the front door that says "If you want money, a donation, to talk about religion or to sell me anything, please go away. If you ring the doorbell you do so at your own risk." Or perhaps I should just say "Beware of the pregnant woman." Not FFS.

We've had a tough time this week. Chai has been really upset, clingy and whinging constantly. Nothing that I do makes him happy. I hate it when he's like this because I know that's he's missing his dad and there is nothing I can do about it. I talk to him about Daddy being away and I tell him it's okay to miss him and that he'll be home soon, but what else can I do? Any suggestions welcome!

Anyhow, Wednesday arvo my Dad came over to visit. Whilst he was there I decided to make healthy sausage rolls because Chai loves them and I figured I could freeze some for a quick and easy meal. Not FFS.

Naturally Chai wanted me to hold him the whole time I was cooking. FFS.

I was so proud of myself and Chai absolutely loved them, however I had failed to think about the total mess that puff pastry makes. FFS.

I had to vacuum the lounge room twice because it was covered in pastry. FFS.

Since we moved here we have been getting a lot of (boring) packages. The couriers and postie always arrive when Chai is asleep, ring the doorbell and wake him up. FFS.

At least if they were exciting packages it'd be some consolation but they aren't, they have all been boring. FFS.

The stupid real estate agency who are selling our house have started harassing us already. FFS.

They called Tiger last Thursday and said they wanted to come in to take photo's of the house. He told them he's going away to work and to call him in a few weeks. They called Tuesday. He just happened to have an RDO that day so answered the phone. He told the girl that he's away and to call him when he gets back. Wednesday he had six missed calls from the estate agency handling the sale. FFS.

He called them back that evening and they didn't answer the phone. Typical. FFS.

Yesterday he had eight missed calls from them. This time they didn't bother leaving a message. FFS.

After all the stress I've been through in the last six months I was really looking forward to having some time to de-stress and hopefully relax a bit before the new baby arrives. Having our house on the market has totally ruined that. FFS.

Now instead of relaxing and enjoying a bit of peace and quiet I will have people traipsing through the house all the time. FFS.

To me my home is my sanctuary, I hate having my private space invaded. FFS.

It was bad enough when I had to let people through the house to get something that I wanted (the house sold), now I'll have to let people through the house with no benefit to myself. FFS.

Considering the market at the moment and the price of this house, it's unlikely to sell quickly which means that I will have to deal with people going through the house for a very long time. FFS.

If there was any way I could break the lease without any penalties I would seriously consider it. FFS.

All the swear words in the world are not enough to adequately express how I feel about the owners of this property right now. FFS.

Even worse, the estate agency who are handling the sale of the property are known for their dodgy practices. Their best salesman is currently going through court proceedings for false advertising. I know that they are going to try as many dodgy things as they can so I will have to be on my toes at all times. Bastards. FFS.

Now that you've read my weekly whinge, head over the Sarah's blog and read all the other whinges.
Dear Baby G

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