Friday, November 14, 2008


SWo. It's friggin' midnight. I'm all sleepy on the couch, just about to go upstairs to go to bed. The hubby comes schlumping down the stairs, swearing. He checks out his PT's, and swears more.
One of his Sgt's just texted, telling him to make sure it's spotless for tomorrow. At friggin' midnight!! He couldn't have texted just a little earlier?!

So now I have to stay up for another hour and a half. Why? 25 minutes to wash, and an hour to dry, and I have to check them when they're done. Our dryer is a little spotty and sometimes doesn't dry things all the way, and I'm not letting my husband walk out in 10 degree weather wearing damp clothing.

Seriously, someone needs to unfuck themselves. Don't get me wrong, it's not my hubby's fault, or his Sgt's fault. It's whoever the hell is higher up sending out these orders that doesn't care about the soldiers, just about image. So - Unfuck yourselves!