Can I breathe now?

This morning was havok.

I'm still doing Chaos' hair up in a series of chained topsy tails in order to prevent little creatures. And that segmenting, combing, and topsy-ing takes a fair whack out of my warning.

Getting Beloved to help out on a regular day is not exactly effective.

This morning, Mayhem showed me a fuckoff huge hole that he had in his pants. Right in the crotch zone. He'd popped the seam -I'm not asking how- so it was theoretically easy to repair. Just sew the seam back up.

Problem: I am not entirely secure in my skills with the sewing machine. Also problem: I was still doing Chaos' hair. The only avenue of possibility to fix the resultant mess was waking Beloved from a comfy, warm bed so that they could sew the seam.

It takes a good twenty minutes to get my love out of bed. Even in an emergency. If there's ever a fire, I may have to drag them outside by the bedsheet.

So after that noise got sorted, Miss Chaos informed me that we didn't have vegetables.

So I walked up to the shops, got the carrots, and walked back home. By which time Beloved's carpool had turned up and it was time to watch for Chaos' bus to turn up.

After that, I had less than five minutes to myself before the brat run to drop Mayhem off, deliver a basket of goodies to St Vinnies, fetch myself some new mints and veggies, drop off dry-cleaning, pick up the other dry-cleaning, and get myself some new meds.

And of course my prescription has expired. Huzzah [/sarcasm]

The medical appointment app doesn't like me making appointments for the next day, and the appointments left for today are all too late in the day to talk about everything that I need to talk about. Which are: A new prescription for Seretide, a prescription for Atrovent puffer, the full lipid health check that I'm overdue for by three months, and possibly enquiring how he feels about Keto.

And I also have to attempt to progressively unfuck the garage because it looks like Beloved just ain't gonna.

I'm tired and I need coffee.