One of Those Weeks...

So it's going to be one of those weeks that everything seems to be against you. Those kind of weeks wear the body and mind very thin and sometimes it seems that those kind of weeks...let me rephrase that. THESE kind of weeks are the kind that makes it very difficult not to want to punch a fist through a wall. What? You've never felt like punching a fist through a wall? Oh...well perhaps that is one of those 'how you were raised' situations. It was not all too uncommon to see fist-sized holes littering the thin walling of our mobile home. Four kids, one bathroom and angry, hot-headed teenage years. Did I mention that three of the four of us were red-heads? Maybe that changes things. Don't go judging me. I'm non-violent for the most part. Just hot-headed.

So let's get on to the week at hand. Apparently Josh is never going to work again. Okay, so that's a bit of an exaggeration. I'd love to blame it on the economy, but who's to know for certain. So he has gotten a whopping 8 hours of work. The upside is that he was home to help shovel the 17 tons of rock around our driveway. There are still about 2 tons, if I could guesstimate, left to haul. It's amazing that between the two of us, we will have lifted around 15 tons of rock. Who needs weightlifting right? What the heck...it builds character...and blisters...and muscle spasms...and a large ibuprofen bill.

Next up, we have the craptacular allergy season in full swing. Alex has been a wreck. Naturally, with the sun shining ever brightly, he wants to be outside all day. How can I begrudge him that? I'm an outdoors person anyway. Unfortunately he either has a massive allergy fit or an awful asthma cough that he can't shake without the joyous world of medicine. The allergens even killed our play-date with Wesley. We had to rush home to get him dosed up before he coughed himself into unconsciousness. Lovely eh?

And to add insult to injury, Bob, (Click here to read about Bob)my beloved beta is looking as though he is on his deathbed. I'm not sure how much longer he will hold on. My prayers go out to him. Apparently, I found out that the betas you buy in the store are more than likely to be over one year old already and they have a whopping long lifespan of 3 to five years in the best conditions. He lives in a one gallon tank with goldfish food (he chose the food seeing as how it was the only kind he would gobble-up). He was originally Alex's fish. Alex lost interest fairly fast. Seeing as how fate has given my son animal allergies, and how I'm an animal lover who needs multiple animals to care for, my family is doomed to animal restriction. So I took it upon myself to care for the little guy. Naturally I've grown quite fond of his fishy little face. He always greets me so eagerly for his meals. He's a good fish and I hope he pulls through. I will indeed shed a tear for him if I am forced to give him the traditional flushing funeral. Poor Bob.

So can the week get worse? Well, duh...of course it can. Anyone would be stupid to say otherwise. But it does seem to suck when a week has more downs than ups. I'm sure you've all been there. So for now, I will control my hot-headed urge to swiss cheese my walls. I shall wait and see what tomorrow brings. For the weekend is the beginning of the next week.