in all fairness, i’m sure a big part of my defeat today was due to my complete and total lack of sleep last night.  i blame the hubby.  we got home at a reasonable time last night.  i managed to be very productive before going to bed.  i laid down at a semi-decent time.  i relaxed and started to doze off… and then hubby started tossing and turning.  he rolled and twitched and jerked all over.  he even jumped and claimed a nightmare in which i was trying to kill him by… eating him alive.  after an hour, he fell asleep and proceeded to rest like a baby.  me?  i was awake.  very much awake.  and no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t get unwound again and i seethed.  ugh!  i slept… not at all.  when the alarm went off at 06:00, i snoozed it angrily and told hubby he sucked.  three minutes later, i grumpily stalked out of bed, through on some walking clothes, and dragged hubby for a walk on the beach.  we had time to get in a forty minute walk but had to turn around a little over twelve minutes into it because we walked straight into a storm.  we tried to beat the rain home but got soaked instead.  luckily, that wasn’t such a bad thing since it’s bloody frikkin hot in florida at 06:00.  so i got a 25-30 minute walk in.  better than nothing, right?  but then, after a quick shower, it started. 

it was immediate…  it was constant…  it was brutal…  it was…

monday

all. frikkin. day.

by 15:20, when i finally took two minutes to run out to the kitchen and grab a pack of poptarts for lunch, i was broken.  as i sat down and took a bite out of my cold poptart and heard the binging of my work instant messenger, i fought back tears.  not only did i not get my lunch hour… i couldn’t even have five minutes to eat a poptart!  absolutely ridiculous.

i shut down as soon after quitting time as i could and attempted a nap but failed miserably because my tummy was extremely upset (if i get another ulcer because of this daggum job… *shaking fist*).  and, since i didn’t get a chance to throw dinner in the crockpot until my 15:20 poptart run, there was no chance of it being done in time for dinner.  tomorrow’s dinner it is.  which means that i had to come up with plan b.  i enjoyed a glass of wine and started to feel like monday was nearing its end.  when it was time to get up and head to bed, i remembered that i needed to finish dealing with the contents of the crockpot and transfer them to a refrigerator bowl.  hubby headed on to bed.  i spent then next fifteen mintes pulling chicken to shreds and digging for a bowl.  which is when i knocked hubby’s full cup of watered-down cranberry juice over making a mess all over the kitchen.  i screamed at monday and proceeded to clean up the huge mess, expecting hubby to get out of bed to find out what was going on and maybe lend a hand.  not a peep.  once i had finally gotten the sticky mess cleaned up and tomorrow night’s dinner put up, i headed into the bedroom and found him sound asleep.  the man who had slept all night last night while i stayed fully awake because he woke me up at the start.  i’m not saying it was right, but i was pissed.  i slammed the door, slammed stuff around on my nightstand while taking my meds, huffed around while bathing all of the sticky juice off my legs and feet, and finally jumped into bed much later than i had wanted.  he slept through it all. 

stupid monday from h3ll!!!