Three Days

07 Feb 2016 (Sunday)

The Husband and I woke up earlier than we usually do on weekends, showered, got dressed, had a snack and decided to go for a walk. We were feeling good about ourselves, it was going to be a good day, life is good, we are blessed, blah blah blah. We looked out of the window and saw that it was kind of sunny and not at all windy, and was looking pleasant so it was the perfect time to get out of the house and go for a walk.

In the two minutes it took me to tie my shoelaces, it started raining. It was supposed to be our perfect day for a walk. And it turned out to be cold, windy and wet exactly the moment we stepped out of the house. I just stood there on the side-walk, getting ready for the water works to commence, throwing a fit and proclaiming that I wasn't going to walk any more, that Scotland had forsaken me and that life was unfair. Unfortunately, it takes a lot more than some wind and rain to dampen The Husband's spirits when he's made up his mind. So we walked in the rain and the cold. Just to show Scotland that we're unbeatable. FML.

08 Feb 2016 (Monday)

We discovered left over egg fried rice. Best day of our lives. Let's have the egg fried rice for dinner. Egg fried rice is the best thing in the world. Especially when you realise that you don't have to cook. Everyone should eat leftover egg fried rice.

Except the leftover egg fried rice did not taste like egg fried rice any more. So we decided not to poison ourselves. "Here, let me take that away from you.", I said, and away from him I took the leftover egg fried rice, not knowing what was going to come back and bite me in the ass in just 2 minutes.

We have a pretty basic, plain and boring trash can. It doesn't do anything fancy and I kind of hate it. But yesterday, the asshole did something fancy. The minute I dropped the plastic container full of stale egg fried rice into the trash, the container did a kind of somersault or back-flip or air-kick and landed right on the floor, dispersing the rice everywhere. Stale egg fried rice EVERYWHERE on my tiny kitchen floor. I still don't know how I managed to do that. I just cried a little bit, squatted on the floor cleaning it, then sprawled on the floor and cried some more after cleaning it. Finally, I licked up all my tears on the floor.

09 Feb 2016 (Tuesday)

Breakfast is the most important meal at 22 Nelson Street. Hence the kitchen is one of the first places in the house that we see when we wake up.

Today morning, when I walked into the kitchen, the first thing I saw was an unopened packet of macaroni just sitting there, laughing at me. So I decided that the motherfucker was not going to laugh at me any more. I pulled out a jar and opened the packet to empty it's contents into the jar which would then get stored in some dark cabinet from where it won't be able to laugh at me. At least that's what I intended to do. Now the macaroni is laughing at me from every single surface on the kitchen.

Floor - check.
Counter tops - check.
Sink - check.
My left nostril - check.

And you know what? It's just going to stay there. I'm not going to move a muscle. I will sit right here with macaroni in my hair and left nostril. 'Cos Mommy's had a day three days. AND SHE IS DONE.

Gif - A day in my life.