I’ve been up for an hour, and I’ve done nothing but yell PODRICK STOP! since I left the bedroom. He’s chasing Pippin, he’s climbing the kitchen drawers, he’s pinning Pippin, he’s in the sink, he’s chasing Pippin, he’s eating an expensive power cable. I locked Pippin in the bedroom, but she can’t stay there all day. On top of that, it’s not fair to her to lock her up because her little brother is a fucking asshole.
I’ve been in a bad place, lately. Everything is overwhelming. My mood and irritability is wildly off the charts for the last two or three days, and it all came together to make a really awful Thursday. I was already having a bad morning when he decided he needed to bother Pippin. I moved the little squirt gun we have over to my table, since a light squirt to his ass-end is usually enough to redirect and distract him from the chase. The squirt gun leaked all over my end table, getting into a speaker, power cord ports, and thus, into my phones. There was about 15 minutes of panic while I waited to see if my charging port would come back after my phone detected water in it and turned it off.
And it’s been the same for most of this week. Any time I want to do something, I can’t. Oh, I want to take pics? Well, don’t even think of trying to set up the backdrop in the living room. I have to do it in the bedroom again, and there’s only one specific window of time – his naptime – in which to set up. If he’s awake, he’s on the bed, in a pile of power cords, tripods, and ring light, trying to eat the cords. Even if I managed to set up, the mood would be killed, and I’d end up with another photo shoot that looks like a hostage roleplay.
Having bought a couple of new sheets in the last few weeks, I’ve wanted to work on some new pants. Yesterday, I tried to prep fabric. That was waaaaay more stimulation than Pod’s little brain could handle, and he chose violence. I removed myself from the situation (ie. I angrily wadded the fabric into 2 balls and threw them in opposite spots of the living room). Later, once we had both settled down, I tried to fold the fabric, and Podrick once more offered his “assistance”. I had to give myself a timeout.
The thought of trying to spread fabric on the floor to cut the panels has me nearly in tears.
