"You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart. You’re heading for a breakdown, better pull yourself apart. " - John Cooper Clarke

>Help – I really need that job now.

>Last week I lost me. That’s correct, me, as in Zoe. I lost myself to a Domestic Goddess; in fact, I turned into one.

Me + Domestic Goddess = WHAT THE FUCK?

No Excel equation will ever be able to answer that one, but it happened.

On Wednesday, although it could have been Tuesday, I went into the kitchen, got out a big pan and my slow cooker. I had all my ingredients ready and started with the echalottes. I chopped up about 8 or 9 – I really don’t remember as I was crying pretty badly and my nose wouldn’t stop running. Half of them went into the pan, spiced by the odd drop of snot, and the rest were thrown into the slow cooker. I then chopped up about 7 courgettes and threw them in the pan closely followed by about 10 peeled and chopped spuds. I added a few herbs, a stock cube and some water, set it on low and let it do its thing.

I then attacked about 2kgs of carbonnade, cut it into bite-size chunks, threw that into the slow cooker with some herbs, a small bottle of red wine and a cup of water, set it on low and voilà. Supper for that night and the following night (well, the stew actually lasted for about 4 days).

And like a bat out of hell I started cleaning the entire kitchen followed by my emptying all the bins around the house into the main bin bag.

The courgette and snot soup was lovely and the stew was lovely and tender – I made more last night for tonight as it’s proper winter food.

But I’m worried as this is so unlike me. Even the Twat is getting edgy about my insistence on putting things away and wiping surfaces. Todd helped me with the washing up yesterday whilst listening to 70s music and we had a wild time dancing away to Boney M, Claude François and Grease. Todd did manage to revert back to himself by actually pushing me over to get out of the house, despite our pact that he stayed in that night.

So I need that job badly. Just to be me again.

UPDATE (already): We found out last night that Todd was so angry that he managed to kick his foot through Coralie’s bedroom door. One broken bathroom light and now a door, due to anger. The Ex has said that he’ll help me find a replacement door and take it out of Todd’s pocket money (oh yeah – but a kind gesture) – the stress is killing me. The boy needs lessons in anger-management, not a bloody ‘Fame!’ school.

9 Comments

  1. Posted Monday, October 26, 2009 at 11:17 am | Permalink

    Imagine two Todds. When mine were at their worst they made a hole in the loo wall and then an identical one in my newly bought frig freezer. I told the world at large that if the efficacy of the freezer had been affected I was leaving home. They grew out of it and now have their own grown up and teen- agers and are absolute rocks to me.
    I did eventually leave home – but only after they had gone.

  2. Posted Monday, October 26, 2009 at 11:32 am | Permalink

    Thanks Pat – and a gem of a last sentence 🙂

  3. Posted Monday, October 26, 2009 at 9:28 pm | Permalink

    You’re becoming a Stepford Wife. RUN, Zoe, run.
    As for teen boys. Soooo many mothers have told me how their teen sons drove them berserk.
    I’ve seen what teen boys can do, I grew up with a couple of them. And a boy cousin or two.

  4. Posted Tuesday, October 27, 2009 at 5:28 am | Permalink

    My missus has similar moments of madness. Cleans whole areas of the house and cooks a great meal. It never lasts long and we go back to cob webs and make do meals. So don’t worry you will be back to normal very soon. On the Kicking and anger management. I think certain people know how to push others buttons. Which produces these outbursts. Totally unacceptable I agree. If it is a case of it is either you or him has to go. You know who ultimately wins. YOU>
    x

  5. Posted Tuesday, October 27, 2009 at 12:14 pm | Permalink

    It’ nbot only males that have anger probs, though. A friend of mine had the windscreen of his van bricked by his wife – and it wasn’t even in reprisals for anything HE’D done.
    She’s done it twice, apparently…

  6. Posted Tuesday, October 27, 2009 at 8:49 pm | Permalink

    I think you need a nice glass of wine dear – make that a bottle. It will go away and you’ll be back to nice cosy piles of dust before you know it.
    Fortunately for us Olivier has only ever broken his own property in anger. I have been tempted to throw something of his out of the window, but I know who will have to clear up bits of broken telly etc…

  7. Posted Tuesday, October 27, 2009 at 10:41 pm | Permalink

    Punishment for Todd: Force feed him the entire contents of the slow cooker – snot an’ all!
    Recipe for quicky soup: Finely chop one onion. Fry. Put in slow cooker. Open one tin of Baked Beans. Put in slow cooker. Open one tin of Chopped Tomatoes. Put in slow cooker. Switch slow cooker on “Auto” for about 3 – 4 hours. Eat. (Don’t forget to plug in slow cooker).
    To enhance the soup you could put in crushed garlic, parsley and snot; then sneeze into it. Personally I prefer it without the garlic. . . it makes me sneeze.

  8. Posted Wednesday, October 28, 2009 at 9:34 pm | Permalink

    Wait a minute – shouldn’t you have been doing stuff like that all along?

  9. Posted Thursday, October 29, 2009 at 9:50 am | Permalink

    Todd’ll probably grow out of it eventually. I once put my handbag through the patio window after a row with my boyfriend. My parents were so utterly stunned that they forgot to give me a bollocking. If you’re looking for any more domestic tasks to take your energy out on, please feel free to come round to my house because it’s an utter shithole. Good luck with the job, I’ll keep my fingers crossed!