in other words, i'm not as cranky. but snotty.
as in, thanks Husband, for coming home complaining about being sick, then five minutes later giving it to me.
and, as is with most men (and a lot of women i know), when he gets sick, the world is coming to an end. death is knocking at the door, and if he was just a little stronger, he could get off the couch to answer the door.
exaggerating? just a little.
he's better today. momma made him take a ny-quil shooter last night, where he proceeded to fall asleep on said couch.
no wonder death couldn't get in. there was so much log sawing that we couldn't hear anyone at the door.
besides, with the mood i've been in lately, i would've beaten death's ass with a broom and kicked him out. go visit some child molesters or other equally horrible people. take them out of the gene pool.
oh, and to add insult to injury, i'm listening to a recording from Blockbuster, telling me we have an outstanding video. bring it back, they say, or some guys are coming.
um, Blockbuster? i've dropped it off an hour ago. go check your drop-off bin.
no worries. i will shake this mood. i will get the little black raincloud hanging over my head. i'll be back to my usual cheerful, less cranky self.