I had one of those days at work where I had a pile of irritating passive aggressive sticky notes to direct my day (seriously, I used to think that post-its were cool, now I now they were invented purely for evil purposes). On my way home I drank an excessive amount of gas station cappuccino tempered with half and half. Ugh. It made me feel like I had eaten a stick of butter. When I got home, Alpha was passed out on the couch and the boys were watching a movie. Sent the big boy to bed. Waited for the little one to pass out. Woke Alpha up and stumbled to bed. That's when it all went downhill. On His way through the kitchen, He noticed that I had not eaten dinner. I feel compelled to point out that He was exceptionally graceless and rude about it. And me, for once, being sweet and apologetic which was greeted with a plethora of "whatevers" from Him. He was pissed. I got (silently) pissed. He went to sleep deliberately insuring that no part of Him was touching me at all. Oh good times for all.
This morning I got a short, much less cranky, reading of the riot act for not eating. I'm in trouble. And getting kicked out of the "bubble" is so much worse than any other form of punishment. In the end, I know It's just one of His ways of looking out for me. And I suck at taking care of myself which was going to be a big part of a much less angsty post for today but it will have to wait until Saturday.