Search

The ramblings of Mrs. Hoolihan

My rants on life and everything in between. Desperately trying to remind myself that it's just not worth the jail time.

Category

Facebook

I’m feeling sorry for myself. 


I’m ill and I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Whilst I have a cold, my husband has man-flu. Whilst I’m coping, he’s ‘dying.’

We went out to celebrate one of our BFFs birthday last night and ended up home and in bed for 10.30pm whilst our mates partied on.

This am, I’ve played my snapchats back my mates sent downing shots and generally being fucked and I’m laid in bed feeling for myself that my ears are blocked and I can’t hear my own voice (probs no bad think you haters are thinking) and my voice sounds like Estelle in ‘Friends.’

However, for the moaning I’m undertaking, my friends have woken rougher than I have, so I’m ever so slightly smug that I’m not the worst one laid in bed this am.

On that note, I’m off to stuff my face with  Lemsip before our little man arrives back  from his sleep over at his Uncle Ric and Aunty Alex’s – I dare say they’re feeling worse than me anyway! 

I can’t concentrate.


I can’t concentrate.

I’m tired, I’m ratty (I feel this, no one’s actually confirmed this) and can’t think straight. I’ve a lot on at the moment and I feel like I could actually sleep for 10,000 years. OK so a slight exaggeration, but you get me don’t you?

Today is my middle sister’s birthday and I have to confess, I almost missed it. Last year I missed a few people’s birthdays (one being my Dad – my Dad! How the hell I forgot that, I’ll never know) and a few people got arsey about it, yeah I get it, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, it revolves around our soon to be 2 year old, Harry and my husband to be is nearly 37 but stuck in the mindset of a 14 year old boy. Oh and paying the not so little mortgage we have.

So this year I thought I’d be organised and write all birthdays in my diary – and I’ve still forgotten. I’ve forgotten to check my diary and if it wasn’t for Facebook reminding me, I’d have forgotten once again.

I’m putting my lack of concentration, tiredness and all round mardiness down to trying to juggle Mummyhood, Fianceehood, our forthcoming wedding (not long now!), a demanding full-time job (which I love so I’m not at all complaining) and being a domestic goddess (unsuccessfully as our house permanently looks like a bombsite since we let go of our last cleaner).

I’ve never felt so tired trying to juggle all this (thank god the studying finished in December to give me a break). If I’m not collecting Harry from Nursery or his beloved Grandparents, I’m trying to amuse and play with him whilst cooking dinner and playing with the dog. If not this, then I’m trying to find bunting for the wedding, or decide upon which toilets to hire in for the day, trying to juggle maid of honour and bridemsaids dresses or I’m failing miserably at trying to maintain a decent looking house in case anyone pops by.

With all this whirring around my head, a forthcoming Audit at work, worrying if the cars service or MOT has run overdue seeing as I miss everything else, I barely have time for 2 minutes to myself. These days having a wee on my own, in the privacy of my own en-suite feels like a smug day at the Spa. I just can’t seem to concentrate so I’m perpetually caught up in what I can only describe as a whirlwind of everyday life.

Even when I’m sleeping, my mind is off on one!

It may seem like I’m complaining; far from it (though the haters will no doubt disagree -go jump off a bridge is my advice to whatever sarky shit you’re thinking), i just sometimes wish there were two of me! Life would be so much easier – me 1 could whirl about doing the doing whilst me 2 could simply think. If only life were that easy!

Well off I trot; I already feel somewhat calmer for this somewhat calmly approached rant and well, it stops me ripping the nearest persons head off in any case. I really should write more, maybe when Harry’s a tad older I’ll have the time – maybe I’ll even wrote a novel. My little man is so terribly independent (takes after his Mummy) and soon he’ll realise there’s a whole world out there to explore and he won’t rely on Mummy & Daddy quite so much. Until then,  the whirlwind of my life will continue!

In the words of Christian Grey, Laters Baby!

 

 

 

“S’up chick?”


Jesus nothing more than leading status updates and personal spilling of beans on Facebook winds me up. And by wind me up, I mean fuck me right off.

It’s ridiculous I know and I really shouldn’t concern myself with other peoples’ lives, but I can’t help it. And why can’t I help it? I’ll tell you why, because it’s shoved in my face.

I’d like to say it’s just the youth of today trying to gain notoriety and attention but sadly it isn’t. It’s women (mostly, again) of all ages and social standing. Why don’t people just say what they mean rather than speak in some attention seeking code?

“Feeling pissed off” followed by “S’up chick” followed by “I’ll PM you”. For fuck sake I hear myself yell at no-one, either spit it out and say what’s up or you know what, do us a favour and don’t bother littering my feed with your ego centric crap. The problem I feel lies in that today, there’s no moral or social boundaries. People basically have no social skills nor manners – putting it simply, they don’t know when to shut the fuck up and keep personal details to themselves. Even though it’s followed up with a “I’ll PM you” invariably, the details end up spilling out and all over Facebook ten minutes later anyway and then regardless of whether you wanted to know or not, the details of how her ex-boyfriend was caught shagging her Mum’s best friend are laid, warts and all, for the world to read all about.

Why, why would you invite the world to know the salacious details of your love life is well beyond me. I always find those updates that read “Oh god I just love my super sexy teddy bear, Leon, he’s the best ever” suspicious too. Like what are you trying to prove and to who more to the point? Listen up. Give it a rest. In the fullness of time, no one gives a shit and I dare bet less than a month down the line, you’ll be back on-line, publicly trashing him. “Oh god, Leon’s such a bastarding tool, I hate him and his new slaggy, chavvy girlfriend.”  Nope, didn’t see that a mile off did I? Rolls eyes.

In the wise words of Ron Burgundy ‘”You’re pathetic.”  I said it, I meant it and I’m not the least bit sorry for it either.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: