Today should be a good day. All I want to do is snap at people. Maybe it's the weather; maybe it's because I'm still sick.
I was hoping to sleep in more than an hour-and-a-half today, but I was the only one who heard Bella screaming, "Daddy!" with an urgency over the monitor. (She'll be 14 and we'll still have it in her room, I swear.) So, I awoke from my slumber to take her potty and we climbed into Mommy and Daddy's bed for weekend morning cuddles. This didn't last for long; she kept saying, "I hungry, Maddy," which is her own word for both "Mommy" and "Daddy."
She gets all set up in her chair this morning, and it's obviously I'm barely coherent. My mother says, "I know you just woke up, but would you wear this?" and she holds up a hideous-looking sea foam green shirt. I said, "Uh, no," and proceeded to fix Bella's breakfast. I'm really not one for talking first thing in the morning.
Dishes in the dishwasher this morning were clean and have been clean, but nothing was emptied from it; the sink was filled with dirty dishes. I emptied and filled it. I'm tempted to do something with the bathroom as well, but why? It's my birthday, so why should I do anything productive?
On a lighter, happier note, the hubs and I are going to see Star Trek once Bella goes down for her nap this afternoon. We have to do it then so that my mother can "watch" her and take care of her invalid asshole husband (he had foot surgery on the 13th and is a huge pansy for pain of any kind).
Bella's playing in the background and SpongeBob is even further in the background.
Happy 28th Birthday to me.
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