Did I misplace my happy pills?

In reading my most recent post it appears that I may have forgotten to take my meds. It is less of a humorous account and more of a bitch session. Oops!

And IF my neighbors read this blog (I think they might, the last 2 nights have been 4-wheeler free) I do apologize if I hurt your feelings. That doesn't mean I want to you ride your machines around, just that I didn't mean to be so cranky about it. Maybe hillbilly hell was a little extreme to title that post....

Moving on....

My dear husband woke up with a hangover today. The man can't hold his whiskey & 7-up apparently. He has been having a drinky-poo each night this week (it is month end so he is having to do that ghastly accounting stuff) to let go of the day.

Last night he made himself one, and then while I was refilling my bailey's on ice, I made him drink #2. Which was honestly mostly whiskey, but he swore he couldn't taste it. Guess I make a mean drink.

In any case, I got out of bed at 6:15 and jumped in the shower. By 6:45 I was dressed, made up and starting to brush my teeth. Lazy bones was STILL in bed nursing a hangover and asking for a beer-driver (a friend's surefire hangover cure-all cocktail of beer & orange juice).

THEN he tells me he needs me to iron his clothes and take the garbage to the top of the driveway. Why on earth, in all the years we have been together, would I choose today to start ironing his clothes (nevermind taking out the garbage-AS IF!)?

He slept in, whined about a hangover, and forgot about the garbage. What could possibly motivate me to help? Well, the promise of a boat could go a long way, actually.

But then again I would ALSO be responsible for getting the two children ready to go, and as you are aware this blog is partially about CHAOS. Need I say more?

I do love the man, and can't imagine why he married me (I feel like such a lucky girl). After all, I don't cook, I don't clean, I don't iron his clothes or make his lunch, and worst of all I have no boobs. Why, indeed?