Grumpy Sybil Again

This PMT stuff is relatively new to me, intensifying and exhausting me. I am now, I think, a woman of a certain age...

In other words, I could pick a fight in an empty room.

So I am carefully picking my words here, as I will have to live with whatever I post now. The steps are back to green again, I am going to have another go with toilet cleaner after the bees stop falling on it. While they are still moving I don't feel I can bleach them, and those steps are getting crunchier by the day, it being the middle of autumn and everything. The person supposedly coming out for a survey for the fire is going to get back to me, honest. The confused fruit flies are now hovering around the kettle which has made me incredibly paranoid and the kettle a lot cleaner. They may be confused but I am baffled. Evil cat is looking a bit washed out. I snapped at darling father yesterday and had to apologise (well, I didn't have to but I wanted to). Little bear has got his school shoes, and managed to coax two rides out of me, but I held out against getting him a toy. They are already showing where he was climbing walls.

And I can't post on my other blog because my eyes aren't working enough to read the print properly. Sigh.

Also, I need to toughen up. Little bear has persuaded me out of a new spaceman suit for no good reason and I have been unable to keep to my determination to cut down his sugar intake. I managed to get the almost healthy cereal in him, but he wheedled jellies out of me. I need to plan more.