This morning I woke up and immediately started acting like an asshole. I’ve got my period and a nice case of seasonal depression that wasn’t cured by buying a whole lot of unnecessary shit at the new Trader Joe’s. Although, the salted dark chocolate caramels may be one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten.
So my husband, Travis, spiked my coffee. (My DECAF coffee because caffeine gives me a nasty case of the “panic attack”, so I didn’t even have the caffeine to counteract the booze.) I’m not sure if he was doing it to make me nicer or shut me up. Either way, it didn’t work and I just got mopey and spent an unnatural amount of time sitting on the bed staring longingly at the pile of dirty laundry, hoping against hope that it would magically (and instantly) wash itself.
Eventually I dug out some clean underwear and threw on some relatively clean clothes. Now I’m finishing my boozey coffee while the Toddler sleeps. It’s actually pretty delicious.
I’m going over to the Sister in Law’s house tonight to “teach” her to make trifle and drink wine and eat pizza. I’m just happy to have an excuse to make a decadent dessert that I don’t have to take home with me. I’m chunky enough