Rush, rush, rush.  Hurry, hurry, hurry.  This week has been CRrraaaaAAAzy – at work, at home, yada, yada, yada.  I don’t know why it’s all at once, but it is, which is fine…until I start twitching.

So, I ran home after work to fix supper before we left again.  I pulled in the drive and then walked over to the side of the house to see how My Man was doing on the whole roofing thing.

Me:  “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Looks nice, babe.”

Him:  “Thanks.  You going to the gym?”

Me:  “No, I’m not going to the gym!  I’d like to go in and stay in one place for a few minutes!!!”

Poor guy, simple question, that’s all it was.  And I usually do try to go to the gym after work.  Yeah, this was not the day.  I need to work on my attitude, I know.  In my defense (though being snippy should have no defense), I calculated that the longest stretch of non-sleeping time that I had been home that week was two hours – and the two hours occurred only once, most of the time it was one hour segments, which would include getting ready in the mornings, or getting supper or (sometimes) doing dishes.  And, no, I didn’t sleep in either.

Ok, so this evening, I was in a huff.  Went inside.  He came in as I was banging around the kitchen.  He led me in a decision…let’s skip the event that night, ’cause it really could be skipped.  Let’s stay home.  And then he grilled supper for me.  And we cooked together and cleaned the kitchen together, and it was wonderful.  No, I can’t say my attitude improved right away, but the evening and the cooking supper together and the home time was wonderful all the same.

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