As Alanis Morissette would say

I love my parents. You know I do. But sometimes they drive me past the city limits of Insanity.

A couple of weeks ago, my mother says, "I'm off that Monday in a couple of weeks. I can come back your mugs and curio cabinet."

I pause. I then answer, "People being at my house while I'm working doesn't really work for me."

"We could trade houses." And plug up to the internet while dad really wants to play solitaire on his computer?

Dad interjects,"she can do most of that at night and get it done."

I did. Mugs were the first thing I packed, and the curio cabinet has been empty except for the bottom shelf I forgot to dust for over a week.

However, today, on that Monday referenced above, Dad decides he wants to move some little stuff to get it out of the way. He made three trips over. And wandered around opening closets and looking to see what isn't packed.

He told me to just work which was easier said than done. Isn't it ironic?

I appreciate what he was trying to do, but... why couldn't we have done it at 5:00 or so when I got off one day? So now, I've worked until 7:00 to make sure I covered the time of my attention being dispersed while he was in and out and my conversation with AT&T on why my internet bill was outrageous after talking to them for an hour and a half last week.

They had the whole thing screwed up again. And, I got disconnected while waiting on hold.

I think that I still have enough dishes over here to cook something and watch The Bachelor. But, man am I "Monday Tired!"

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