Currently in the middle of plotting and planning a trip to the UK for an important family event this Summer. Not that I really want to go, but Mrs S is driving me crazy with her never ceasing picking over fine details. My own inclination is to take a look at the available options and make a decision within two minutes. She spends hours agonising over each small facet, insisting that I am at her side to advise every two minutes and thirty seconds. Regardless of what I am doing.
This has led to an almost complete halt in writing activity, as what my Landlord laughingly calls the "Honey-do" list grows by the day. In addition having my wife click on a 'Scareware' link that took me (Why me? I didn't screw it up.) the best part of a day and a half to fix and recover all her documents and re-secure her laptop. My life has not been my own.
There is a risk that frustration levels may reaching meltdown status, and there has already been one minor explosion. Core chilling is required.
At this rate I'll need a damn holiday to get over planning a bloody holiday. Grr!
All cooked out
5 hours ago
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