I'm in a bit of a sour mood.
After a day like yesterday (appt. at the social security office, appt. with the vet, 3 meetings, the discovery that every bottled beverage in our house had been de-labled and hidden around the house/yard, dog diarrhea in my car and on me, on top of just taking care of Sasha and all the daily stuff) I think I'm excused.
Hubby has been not exactly helpful. Lots of apologizing about how he was going to have to be a bad husband this week because he had to be at these meetings. Apparently I was mislead about the ending of Robot Season and there are a series of happenings associated with it that sounded really important. But the more I hear, the more they sound like parties.
Did I mention the diarrhea? In my car? On my seat? While I was in it?
I know that sometimes you have to make an appearance at things. But it's not helping my mood to think of him enjoying hors devors and an open bar whilst I am engulfed in liquid poo.