I am done.

I am completely done for the night.  Done in. 

I'm not sure if my thyroid meds I got last month just weren't potent (the pill tastes like chalk, rather than the slightly sweet it's been up to then), or if I suddenly need a higher dose, but I have had no energy, have had my nails breaking and/or tearing at the slightest stress, have had brain fog worse than I had when I was getting less sleep, and I've been constantly cold, even on decent days. 

I said screw it, and refilled the scrip with about a week's worth to go.  If that doesn't fix things, then I'll call the doc's office.

The other reason I'm kinda done in is the imp has been really trying to get himself killed today.  Beyond the misbehavior this morning?  He started harassing his dining companions this evening (the pixie, and TCA's Progeny, who'd earned herself a pizza for supper), multiple times, even after being told to stop (and subsequently getting sent to his room).  Then, after Progeny finished eating, she asked if she could go play with him--to which I said yes. 

Maybe I shouldn't have.  The two of them got to playing, and the imp started getting over-excited, and then Progeny comes out, her eyes big, and tells me that the imp threw a large, plush soccer ball straight up in the air, towards his ceiling.  He's broken the glass shades on his ceiling fan light fixture, doing that in the past, so throwing anything is against the rules in the house.  As she's telling me, he's screaming "NO!  Don't tell my mom!  I get in trouble!" 

And then...he slams the door, then runs from me when I go in. 

Yeah, he got spanked.  Yeah, he got double the swats. 

Fast forward to bathtime.  Progeny has been gone for an hour.  Pixie has been permitted time to play in the bath.  I called the imp in, chased the pixie down and wrestled her panties on her while she giggled and tried to get away, and go back in to find the imp ready to get in. 

And he?  "Run my freakin' bath, you bitch."

Um...what? 

Yeah, that got him slapped.  Kinda shocked it out of me, too.  I really didn't mean to slap him.  I explained that that was a grown-up word, and that it was a bad word, even for grownups.  I asked him where he heard it, and finally got out of him that he heard it on a song on the radio. 

I'm going to toss the bathroom radio, and replace it with a CD player, I think.  I do not recall hearing that word on the radio when I started ignoring Mom's orders, and started listening to a rock station back in the mid nineties. 

People say that standards aren't declining.  I beg to differ.

I'm done. 

If the interview with the school doesn't get the imp into parochial school, I'm using the tax refunds to order the stinkin' curriculum and homeschooling.