*grumble*
Yeah. It's that time again. And before anyone gasps and has vapors about me daring to admit such a thing on a public forum let me just say that when you are caught standing in the kitchen with the freezer door hanging open, a carton of dark chocolate velvet ice cream clutched to your chest, a large spoon hanging out of your foaming mouth, and have an expression closely resembling Gollum just before he reclaims the Ring off Frodo's hand..... well, let's just assume they've already figured it out.
Aside from the typical random bursts of homicidal rage usually directed at my own shadow for daring to get in my way, and the normal pounding headache that manages to resist all types of pain reliever, and the agonizing sensation of everything below my chest and above my knees feeling like it's slowly collapsing in on itself, and the manic craving for anything and everything dark chocolate....
... okay, so the chocolate thing is actually pretty normal for me ...
Aside from all that, the day wasn't too bad. The kids spent the day torturing each other incessantly the way that only loving siblings can manage and that left me pretty much to my own devices. I got a decent amount of stitching done on Mirabilia's Cinderella while the TV droned on in the background. Since it's Wednesday we went to church tonight and I was scheduled in the nursery with the 2 yr olds. I had been dreading the idea since I really didn't feel like doing anything other than repeatedly ramming my skull into a brick wall to take my mind off my monthly suffering, but once I got there and the kids starting filing into the room it wasn't so bad.
One of the little guys looked like he felt about the same way I did and once we connected on that "I hate the whole world and I'm gonna take you down with me" level he attached himself to my leg and we spent the evening quietly watching the other children play. Just when I thought I'd made a life long friend, his older siblings showed up to claim him and he suddenly acted like I'd spent the last 90 minutes trying to rip limbs off of him. My kind of kid. And that little smirk he shot my way as they left the nursery about melted my heart. I'm gonna have a ball watching him grow up.
Now we're home and the kids are all in bed and I'm having trouble deciding if I should drug myself into a sedated stupor until this nonsense goes away tomorrow or sack out with my stitching and get a few hours of something reasonably constructive done. Although why I'm having this internal debate, I don't know. What's actually going to happen is I'm going to sit at the computer and play Bejeweled until Steve wanders up here wondering what in the world I could possibly still be doing up here......
Nah, not tonight. I'll just play one game and go to bed.
I promise.
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