Last night Josh was so cute. He came into Pendleton where we were working an extra long day trying to get freight done and he helped break down boxes and stuff.
AAAAAAnd that's about as far as I can get.... Let's go this route:
Telltale Signs That I Have Entered the 2 Week Pre Menstrual Zone
1. Dagny's confetti decorating isn't that cute.
2. 6 people in the house (yes Ethan, you are included) other than me didn't notice the thawed steaks in the sink all night and even though it's technically my fault, I hold them all responsible.
3. Even though there are only three dirty bowls, I am immensely irked that SOMEONE didn't do any dishes last night (evidenced by ignored steaks).
4. I hate my hair.
5. I hate my clothes.
6. I can hardly control my need to engage an intense string of profanity when I discover, once again, the open jumbo pack of cheap hot dogs wrapped in a leaking grocery bag in the refrigerator. Obviously the bag has been relocated several times because the ENTIRE appliance is drowning in sticky, smelly hot dog juice. Two words, people: ZIP LOCK. You can reduce-reuse-recycle your toilet paper before I want to find hot dogs in a leaky grocery bag again. (Josh looked really sexy last night.)
7. My spinach-apple-lime-carrot juice tried to kill me with disgustingness this morning.
8. I didn't bother to tell Aspen to brush her hair this morning. And she may have had cookies for breakfast. I am not sure.
9. The fact that NOBODY in the house woke Aspen up for school makes me irate. Because I had to get out of bed. (Even though you weren't even here, I still blame you, Ethan.)
10. My coffee tastes extra good.
11. I am considering a perm.
12. Emmy looks so cute in the cone of shame that I want to get one for everyone in my family. And then rig all the doors so they only open to slightly less wide than the cones. And then run the video camera for awhile. Is that sadistic?
13. Even shopping doesn't sound that fun (I know once I get started I will actually enjoy it. Just have to push through).
14. I finally took the dead Christmas wreath down. Good bye, Holidays.
15. Truck is hiding in the Spare Oom.
16. I think Bones is annoying.
17. I think air is annoying.
18. My pillow is the most beautiful place in the whole world.
19. I have an inclination to listen to Disturbed.
20. Everything is Josh's fault. But he's a really great guy.
Really, life is awesome. There is nothing at all wrong. But everything seems not right. This is the danger of hormones. I have to chant to myself repeatedly that two giant, delicious, wasted steaks aren't the end of the world. That Dagny can get her medicine three days after the vet says, that it's not a big deal if the Christmas lights aren't down yet, that Words With Friends shouldn't necessarily be on a locked system that releases only when honey-do punch lists are completed. I have to remember that the big kennel and the loose, clanking sample tiles in the back of my car are there for a reason that eventually "Someone" will get to, and even though they seem like evil barons of doom, they really aren't hurting anything. Nothing is the end of the world. Not the pee spot on the rug that isn't Dagny's for once, or the inch of hot dog juice in the crisper. I am well taken care of. I want for nothing. Other than a pretty hefty dose of pain that I am almost totally used to by now, I feel great. My kids are healthy, Josh is Amazing, and Ethan has his own chair. The bills are (mostly) paid, Emmy is doing pretty well, and my car is running. I just got a DVD four pack of Howard Keel musicals and I can lose myself in Showboat while I list Victoria's Secret junk on eBay and make a million dollars. But first I have to take down Christmas lights. And clean the kennel. And throw away the steaks. And get dressed, which is the hardest thing of all on days like this. And quit blaming poor Josh, who did nothing wrong except leave for work. And clean up Dagny's confetti.