Thursday

I am angry and upset iwth Mr. Long-Suffering. "For what?" you ask. Or at least you would ask if any of you ever commented here.

Anyway, I am angry with the mister because, well, basically, he is not a mind reader. Now, normally, this would appear obvious to all and there would be no problem. However, I am going through menopause or something and am completely irrational. Ergo, my husband must be at fault.

I feel better just having written that. Whew. There's a load off of my mind. By the way, the mister is not aware of the white-hot rage I have for him, so let's keep it a secret between you, me, and Google, shall we?

In other news, Chuckles needed a nap and I had a single piece of mail that needed to go out some time in the next month, so I took a gratuitous ride in the car to the post office two towns over. He's napping now, so I feel good about my contribution to this supposed global warming by driving my child in my SUV just so I could get a few minutes peace....I mean so he could take a much-needed nap.

Oh, and the stockings have been hung above the TV with care. Our cat's stocking was in the box with the others. What am I supposed to do with that? Do I just throw it out or bury in the backyard? She's been gone two months and one day and sometimes, I still think I see her when there is a crumpled paper bag on the living room floor.