Week of Money: Where I feel like I can finally breathe
??:?? — Tired. I’m always tired. My back is hurting but not as badly as before, slowly getting there. Two more weeks should do it.
6:00 a.m. — I start a cup of matcha tea, whisking it into a foam.
7:00 a.m. — I log in and start working. To keep Little Bun busy, we do connect-the-dots, and when he is done in 2 minutes, we review the treble clef for the piano (he asked…)
8:08 a.m. — Calls. CALLS. UGH.
11:21 a.m. — I have lunch. Pasta. I eat it all, and feel so full. This stuff be heavy.
11:55 a.m. — I head out to run errands quickly. I buy a bunch of noodles. $43.68
1:03 p.m. — Back home, Little Bun apparently already napped! He was really grumpy I guess and my partner FIRMLY put his foot down and made him nap when I left.
1:28 p.m. — More calls. People are starting to get upset. I hear what is going on and it is just people overreacting. Let’s all calm down. I can’t say that though, because apparently people don’t have lives and are just cogs in a machine to make this company great. We really should stop treating people like this, but who am I to say anything? I am a mere outsider / consultant but I see that people are starting to break (and QUIT IN DROVES!)….
2:44 p.m. — Time for a little break.
4:22 p.m. — I get back to work and then log off.
5:15 p.m. — I make a big bowl of noodles. I had to buy ramen instead of my favourite (udon or soba), and ramen already has salt in it, which I don’t love… I prefer to add and control my own salt, so I under-season to make up for it.
6:50 p.m. — I fold and put away all the laundry, and then do all the dishes and dry them. Little Bun hassles me to find words on this journey path. I am there, basically doing word finds with him, and he shoves it in my face to find more and collect more gold coins. I’m like a video game slave! LOL …
8:28 p.m. — Time for bed.
??:?? — Feeling tired. He sleeps well, I sleep well but I need MORE sleep, you know? Maybe I am feeling a bit under the weather too, and the project and life (crazy) stress doesn’t help especially from what happened last week from being propositioned to start an affair.
6:05 a.m. — I leisurely make a tea, and play with Little Bun. I find it helps if I spend time with him a little before running off for the day. I am no in mood to get to work, but… then again I know I have a lot to get done. It’s difficult. I want to go and I don’t want to.
6:32 a.m. — I try to switch out my necklace but Little Bun gets tearfully angry, and says: But I picked THAT necklace. Wear the OTHER one Mommy, the one I picked!.. okay.. okay… calm down. I put on the other one.
7:40 a.m. — At the office (traffic was bananas), I make a tea, and get down to it. I try to knock out as many emails as possible but they keep piling up like mad.
8:37 a.m. — People have to stop bothering me or I am never going to get this stuff done.
12:08 p.m. — Lunch time. I steal a chicken thigh from a colleague (he offered!) to pad my lunch because I’m extra hungry today.
12:54 p.m. — Back to work.
4:01 p.m. — I work nonstop until the end of the day. Random, interrupting meetings. I CANNOT GET ANYTHING DONE.
4:26 p.m. — I head home after picking up my dry cleaning. $46.09
4:50 p.m. — Little Bun greets me happily at the door and I do words with him after I take a long hot shower. Terrible for my eczema but I need it.
5:18 p.m. — Ooo! Packages! I decide to keep that pretty elephant signet ring for $27 because it makes me smile and I am really into signet rings lately.
5:25 p.m. — I haven’t been on Instagram as much lately, trying to preserve my data plan. I only have less than 2 gigs to get me through 15 days, I NEED TO CONSERVE.
5:59 p.m. — I am really loving (re-loving) Stromae, a French rapper / singer who has really strong lyrics, particularly this song: Papaoutai which sounds like “Papa où t’es?” (Papa where are you)? His lyrics are so good, particularly this part –
Tout le monde sait comment on fait les bébés
(Everyone knows how to make babies)
Mais personne sait comment on fait des papas
(But no one knows how to be fathers)
6:25 p.m. — Little Bun presses me into word-finding slavery (LOL). He makes me do all the words in the search puzzle, up and down, and all around, collecting coins for him like a greedy little penguin.
7:30 p.m. — We have dinner. He asks for more food, and his father caves and gives him rice pudding. SPOILED I SAY.
8:12 p.m. — Time for bed. I am desperately trying to read my book – it is a painful plot but yet satisfying in some ways, I am not sure what to think of it yet. Have to process it. Great writer though.
??:?? — I wake up tired. Of course I do. I feel like I am never getting enough sleep but this is partly work stress I am sure.
6:10 a.m. — Little Bun runs around bleating like a baby goat after his milk. He chases his father, then me.
6:25 a.m. — As I am getting ready in the bathroom, Little Bun comes up in wonderment and says: “Mommy, the moon’s babies are the STARS!”. Adorbs.
7:19 a.m. — I head into work. I pick up a turkey meatball beforehand for my lunch.
8:00 a.m. — At work, non-stop.
3:07 p.m. — I log off and head home. I really need a break.
7:55 p.m. — We play ‘baby’, where I am seated and I whisper stories to him about when he was in my belly, when he came out, and how he was as a little baby. He loves hearing about being inside, and when I tell him there was so much water (amniotic fluid) inside Mommy’s belly, he squeals: And I thought it was a swimming pool inside with all that water!!! ….. So cute. Kids are so innocent. He would have had no concept as a fetus about what a swimming pool was, but I digress.
8:01 p.m. — I am dozing off as Little Bun is doing his teeth with his father, and he runs out crying, red-faced and screaming, jumps (pretty much on my face, almost kneeing me in the eye) yelling: MOMMY CAN’T SLEEP. NO SLEEPY MOMMY. NO SLEEPY MOMMY!!!!!! He then makes me sit up (drowsy), and sit in a seated position, waiting for him to come back out, so he can put a pillow on my lap and lie down like a baby again.
8:23 p.m. — Nosebleed. RIGHT when we are all getting ready for bed. Of COURSE.
??:?? — My partner is snoring like a Mack Truck. He normally doesn’t snore like this (or I am conked out) so this is really bothering me. I keep shushing him loudly, until I finally shove him lightly and he wakes up with a startled snort, and stops snoring so loudly, and drops back to sleep.
??:?? — Little Bun is screaming about how he doesn’t want to go to sleep, and then in his next breath, he has dropped off fast asleep. Whaaaattt….
??:?? — I wake up tired but happy. I am missing an hour of sleep but Little Bun wakes up, checks his fathers electronic clock and whispers: Mommy. It is 6:09 in the morning. I grunt and keep trying to sleep as long as possible. I close my eyes and try not to come out of sleep completely
6:00 a.m. — Time for tea. I make a huge mug of tea, hug my partner (we hug in the mornings now and it sets the tone for my day), and then I play with Little Bun a little who curiously asks me to leave and go out RIGHT AWAY. Why? Normally he wants me to stay but he is like… forcing me out the door.
8:32 a.m. — Calls. Effing calls. 5 directors on a call, all half involved and yet making decisions left and right to be loud and involved, screwing up the plan … I don’t know why I care so much. I am trying hard not to. I pack up my returns while on the calls. Multi-tasking!
11:27 a.m. — I eat lunch while on the call. Fresh bread and cheese. Nomz.
12:00 p.m. — I head out to run errands. I return glasses – $92.79
12:22 p.m. — I return incorrectly shipped size clothing – $99.19
2:33 p.m. — I end up on calls, in the parking lot, and don’t come back into the apartment until later, and Little Bun is already fresh from his nap.
3:12 p.m. — I get on the phone, and can’t figure out why the tax agency is sending me COLLECTION NOTICES. My account is stellar and in perfect condition. I am on the phone for about an hour until they figure it out. I am careful AF when it comes to the government and taxes, so this balance owing business always makes me nervous. Turns out, I don’t owe anything!
4:20 p.m. — Next on the list. I dial the credit card I closed, they owe me more money from a refund that recently went through. About $300, and I need it sent via cheque.
4:31 p.m. — Nope. Have to wait for the first cheque to come through before the second one can. WTF.
6:22 p.m. — “Mommy! This is a towel eater!” <— pointing to the laundry basket. KIDS. <3
8:15 p.m. — Time for bed.
??:?? — Little Bun giggles in his sleep. A full on giggle. Cute but it wakes me up.
6:40 a.m. — After playing on the floor with Little Bun (he woke up, had his milk, I had my tea), I start getting ready for work.
8:45 a.m. — Meeting number 1 of a billion.
3:03 p.m. — I head home. My colleague just got thrown into an emergency near to the end of the day, and he is annoyed AF. I listen but then say: Not to rub it in, but I’m out. Later!
5:14 p.m. — When I go to do kitchen laundry, he bursts out: Mommy, you promised I could fold the blue towel napkins this time! REMEMBER?? … Yes. I remember. I hand them all to him and he very carefully folds the squares into long rectangles to put away. He is obsessed with these napkins for some reason.
6:56 p.m. — “Mommy! Let’s save the animals!“…. he has piled on boxes and covered three rubber bath animals (duck, frog, fish) and he wants Teddy and Mommy to go and help ‘save’ them. He must have been watching a lot of Super Rescue Team.
7:21 p.m. — Dinner of mustard rubbed wings. I want to buy some actual wings and do another recipe I got from a reader J via Instagram Messaging, but have not gotten around to do this. ARG. NEED TIME TO DO THIS. Her wings looked insanely yummy.
8:45 p.m. — Time for bed.
??:?? — I wake up tired, but before Little Bun wakes up. I feel like I will never wake up well rested .. too much going on.
6:00 a.m. — I get up, make tea, and start going through all my papers and note things to do. OMG. Are you kidding? RETURN TO SENDER FOR INSUFFICIENT POSTAGE? $2 was what I paid for a letter, this should be more than enough. WTF. Need to go to Canada Post. I check inside, and the bill is not due until end of the month. Phew.
6:00 a.m. — Little Bun starts crying and with a heart-wrenching wail starts screaming: MAAA MAAAAAAAAAAA.… and I go in there shushing him, and grab his milk. He didn’t wake up beside me, and I think he panicked, with no one in the room (not even my partner), and he lost it.
6:05 a.m. — He’s sniffling, still. Super grumpy. Maybe he is also coming down with a cold, his nose is running.
7:25 a.m. — I do all the dishes and my partner heads out to run errands.
8:51 a.m. — I start two loads of laundry – one to wash one to dry, as it was just to wash and hang to dry…
12:08 p.m. — Lunch time! My partner is back and I am gearing up to leave for my appointment. Little Bun clings to me like he had never clung before, and starts crying for me, big fat tears, screaming, pink-faced, my partner has to physically wrestle him away from the door to let me leave. F*C#%(#.. I hate it when he does that. I feel like such a terrible mother.
2:28 p.m. — I get out to the salon, and hang while my nails are done. Then as they are drying — nail appointment done! $66
3:15 p.m. — I try on these boots and am in LOVE. LOVE… I really really want to buy them. Should I? I mean. $260 Erg…
4:23 p.m. — I leave the store without having them, but am still thinking about them. When I obsess, I OB-SESS.
6:36 p.m. — Dinner! We eat a light dinner and Little Bun hassles his father for rice pudding (there’s done), but my partner is making it weekly now. <3
8:27 p.m. — Time for bed. Still thinking about dem boots. Even while doing words with Little Bun.
??:?? — I wake up tired but happy. I am missing an hour of sleep but Little Bun wakes up, checks his fathers electronic clock and whispers: Mommy. It is 6:09 in the morning.
6:09 a.m. — I grunt and keep trying to sleep as long as possible. I close my eyes and try not to wake up.
6:12 a.m. — I wake up finally. Little Bun is refusing to let me sleep, but very nicely crawling on top of me, hugging, kissing and then announcing: “Morning hug and kiss done!! Time to wake up!”
6:35 a.m. — We’re all up, I make some green tea, start laundry…
8:08 a.m. — I head out to start errands. I pick up some of this hot sauce for the office — I love putting it on my food especially on porchetta sandwiches. It is a bit sour, garlicky, spicy but not burn-your-mouth-off spicy.. I love this stuff. $3.99
8:08 a.m. — I pick up a Starbucks and chill in the car, waiting for the store to open.
10:25 a.m. — They are REFUSING TO TAKE THIS RETURN for this mixer. It’s like $500!!! They’re telling me it was a Final Sale (nobody told me that!) and furthermore, on the receipt it says, LEGALLY, that this is NOT a final sale based on their policy. I’m about to call a lawyer up in here and take them to court (and win).
11:30 a.m. — I head home, frustrated AF. I’ll go back tomorrow to see the manager to see if she’ll take it back. If she doesn’t, I’m going to ask her to sign a letter saying she refuses, and then it’s time to call a lawyer and to get some of my time back for all this nonsense. I’m not taking this BS. These people set corporate policies on receipts, don’t tell you it’s a final sale, and then change the rules so you can’t get your money back? I DON’T THINK SO. I even called the head office of the company and SHE AGREED THAT I WAS RIGHT. Are you all kidding me?
12:24 p.m. — I finish my Salade Niçoise, all furious and huffy. My partner heads out, also annoyed at all of this. I don’t know what’s wrong with the culture here. This is not the first time I’ve had to get pissed off and take them to court. (Consumer protection court, that is.)
2:56 p.m. — I judiciously decide to let Little Bun skip his nap. I do all the dishes, dry them, start laundry.
4:06 p.m. — I take a nice warm shower while Little Bun is playing. I am able to leave him for short periods of time like this, and he is pretty well behaved. I can still hear him from the bathroom sometimes!!!
6:15 p.m. — We eat dinner — well, I make noodles and Little Bun sobs on the floor for a big bowl as well which I WILL NOT give to him because he has to eat his vegetables and noodles are all starch and crap. OK for adults, not for growing baby boys. He calms down and finally eats his meal, and gets a rice pudding treat from Daddy. He’s fine now.
8:22 p.m. — Bedtime.
Want more? Read all of my previous Week of Money Diaries.