I don’t really have a good post today. It is the wee hours on the morning of my 38th birthday.
I am flared. Husband is still sick , and thus unpleasant. Unfortunately for me, one of the manifestations of his pressure and sugar being up is him being either incredibly irritable or comatose (comatose being my sarcastic way of saying soundly sleeping, not anything scarier than that).
The house is cluttered in some areas, straight up messy in others and neither of us really has the energy or motivation to do anything about it.
We had a nightmarish comedy of errors trying to get some packages shipped before 5, having to leave the first post office when they closed at 4:30 without us having mailed the mail. This started the first of several snippy little fights because I walked out of the inner lobby to get Husband’s help with the label on one of the boxes and then the post office guy took that exact second I was out there to close up. I was to blame for this of course, mostly because when Husband feels like crap he wants to blame all those closest to him for everything that irritates him which is everything.
My wrists and hands are more swollen than usual. I will have to stop typing soon and hope that there is some relief in the cold packs now that wasn’t there earlier.
Happy 38th to me!