Tiger is one of those people who mucks around, wastes time and then ends up flustered, rushing around and late for everything. FFS.
You've probably got a few people like him in your life. The ones who decide to start doing some random job like cleaning out their wardrobe instead of getting ready for work. That's what Tiger does. Then he wonders why he's always late. FFS.
Last Friday was the perfect example. FFS.
He wanted to have acupuncture. He'd been talking about it all week and decided he'd go on Friday. The plan was that he'd go to acupuncture and then pick up Chai from school. Simple. Or not. FFS.
Friday we did a few things in the morning, came home, had lunch and Tiger started fluffing around. FFS.
At 1pm he realised that he needed to go or else he wouldn't be finished in time to pick up Chai. FFS.
He fluffed around a bit more then decided he didn't have time to go cause he'd left it too late. Typical. FFS.
A little while later I was looking for him and he wasn't home. WTF? Turns out he'd decided to go to acupuncture. FFS.
At 1.49pm I got a message from him saying he was about to start his session. Then at 1.54pm he sent me a message saying "Might not make pick up". Okay. I sent a message back asking him to let me know if he wouldn't be picking up Chai. No response. FFS.
At 2.30pm I still hadn't heard from him, he wasn't replying to messages or answering his phone, so I got ready to pick up Chai. I couldn't find my car key and then remembered that Tiger had it. FFS.
He'd also hidden my spare key. FFS.
Thankfully I managed to find the spare key, got into my car and what do you think was in the ignition? My car key. Handy. FFS.
I raced to school and got there just as the bell went. Not FFS.
Tiger had promised that he'd pick up Chai so Chai was not happy Daddy wasn't there. FFS.
When Tiger got home he said that he'd told me he wouldn't be able to pick up Chai. I read his message back to him and said that might doesn't mean can't, it means might. FFS.
Clearly we communicate differently.
Last week I had gastro. FFS.
I'm still not better. I can't eat anything without my stomach getting really sore. FFS.
Part of me wonders if it's my Crohn's. FFS.
I went to the Dr on Wednesday and got drugs. I also had to do a poo sample. FFS.
Ever done a poo sample? It's gross. FFS.
I did my poo into a container (you put the container into the toilet). Then I took the container out and the poo was hanging out the side nearly falling out. FFS.
I managed to get it back into the container without touching it, yay! Not FFS.
Then I had to scoop up some poo and put it into two sample jars. GROSS! FFS.
The rest of the poo went into the toilet and I threw the container into the bin, yuck, yuck, yuck. FFS.
We had to do school drop off before going to pathology to drop off the poo, so left the poo sitting in the car. FFS.
When I got to pathology there was a queue, so I'm standing around waiting with my poo jars in my hand. FFS.
Pretty sure I can still smell poo. FFS.
I lead such a glamorous life. FFS.