I have already had two phone calls from work regarding a delivery that goes out today. It's paid for and ready to go and I have checked and called as any good employee would but now, since I am home until work at noon, my employer is having his favorite call and ask questions so everyone at work will assume I screwed up. They are even going through the cash register records looking for the paid receipt. I am trying to remain calm.
Also, on this very computer that I bought and paid for and assumed was mine, my husband has been changing and adding and doing his business, even though he has his own, purchased, laptop. So this morning, I discovered that when I open the photo file, I can no longer see the photo I choose. He has done something, which he will not remember doing, and will not know how to undo and to say I am pissed is an understatement. And he keeps changing and "improving" the email box.
I don't mind if he plays games, reads mail or checks the store stats. I just would prefer he left well enough alone. But everyday something is different. Something is wrong. My files don't open first, his do. ETC. This morning is really the last straw. The blog is something I am supposed to enjoy. Downloading photos for the blog is something I should enjoy doing. But, no, it isn't. And I am angry. This is MINE. The camera and computer are my little world. A safe place.
Perhaps I am hypersensitive today. Low blood sugar or something. The phone calls, computer, the situation at work, working till 7 and getting home at 7:30 and, really, only wanting a hot shower and something to eat. G did have a hot meal ready for me yesterday. Which I truly appreciated after spending the entire work day outside hauling trays of perennials. I don't mine hard work. I don't need or want emotional stress. I need solitude.
I bleached all my dishtowels yesterday and threw in my tee shirts and undies so as not to waste a good bleach wash. I forgot to toss in my summer short socks. One sock got bleached by accident and now it is making all the other short socks look grey and grungy. I should be ironing G's work shirts, but I don't want to do anything nice for him at this time. I may not even make any dinner tonight. He can have toast.