Journal

Fuggle.

That means I have too much to do today, my day is totally fuggled.
I hate having a huge long list of places to go, errands to run and things to buy. Somehow I have to go and spend time with a possible new client today, a severely autistic young lady whom I may be spending my weekends with soon, being thrown up against the walls of her flat and yelled out, as, bless her, she only knows swear words, nothing else.
I also have to go and collect, then assemble a swing for my daughter, who is also needing home schooling and taking to grandma's and a load of other things from me today.
When my husband handed me a load of papers he needs photocopied today beofre he left for work I felt like punching him! This is the middle of nowhere, it's going to take me hours to get to a photocopier.
And of course, I then have to waste time here, moaning about it all, like a total chundering chunder-pants.
A pox on me!