A rant. A guest rant in fact. And a language warning, she speaks of cream couches and littlest pet shop shit.

When Mrs Woog asked me if I wanted to send her a rant for her blog I jumped at the chance. She’s a great listener and I needed to vent. I’m being sucked into the Xmas/end-of-year vortex of grumpiness. I am tired, over child rearing, over working, over blogging, over cleaning and over the damned festive spirit. I need a holiday.

Here’s six ways I know I’m not myself.

1) I nearly punched out the people who grabbed the last Littlest Pet Shop Tree House out of my hands. The one I’d driven across town to find after another shop had run out. I had to “remove myself” from the situation and spend five minutes hovering in the bin aisle until they left the area. I might have even angrily pushed over a Princess Barbie. Skinny mole.

2) I threw removed all the dining chairs from my house to stop my youngest child from climbing up onto the table. Seeing that she is on a five-minute loop of repeating this activity, this seems quite reasonable. What isn’t reasonable is making my other two children stand up to eat their cornflakes meals*.

*note: it was only one meal, but in my head it was many, many meals.

3) I am struggling to react proportionately to the circumstance. For example, where I would normally smile and nod when someone sees me with my three girls and says: “Oh, you must be busy?” or “Are you going to try for a boy?” I want to suggest they go and “drink a glass of SHUT THE FUCK UP”. I hear both these statements every week, I fear for the next person who dares utter them to me.

4) I voluntarily spent an hour cleaning my cream leather couch with a tiny scourer and it felt GREAT. Who does that? And who the fuck buys a cream leather couch?

5) I’ve started eating wine for dinner. I’m sure that’s fine, as long as I mix up my colours – red, white, rose. Sometimes, I even add fruit to my booze to make myself feel healthier. Lime in gin, pineapple in rum, cranberry juice in vodka – that’s normal isn’t it?

6) I saw a picture of Kyle Sandilands in the newspaper and I didn’t draw a little penis on his head. What’s wrong with me?

C’mon, please tell me I’m not alone in this general feeling of malaise. Join the rant. What’s pissing you off at the moment?

Bianca Wordley is an Adelaide-based Twitter addict who has a penchant for reality television programs, gin and Maggie Beer pate. The former journalist, who has worked for over a decade in international print and broadcast media, is also the mother to three girls under five. She blogs at: http://www.bigwordsblog.com/