I don't know what the Sam Hill is going on in my brain, but I am starting to be concerned by some of the goofiness. Last night after I went to bed, I kept seeing a computer game that I play behind my closed eyelids. I was ACTUALLY PLAYING THE GAME... in my head. WTH?? It took me a while to get to sleep.
Maybe I have a brain tumor.
I'm mad at my husband again. I've not returned about 4 phone calls in the last week that I really should, but just don't want to. And I don't know why.
It's Thursday, and I spent my whole day off cleaning and doing laundry and cooking and never left the house, except for one short foray into the back yard and then around to the garage to look in the freezer.
Himself came home, jumped in the shower and left again. And DID NOT EAT THE FOOD I COOKED. Took a peanut butter sandwich with him to eat on the way. After he was gone, I said (out loud, to the dogs and cats) I'LL NEVER COOK HIM ANOTHER MEAL. HE CAN DO HIS OWN LAUNDRY. And I thought, I think I'll take off and go somewhere about a half hour before he gets back. And stay gone. And that'll show him.
And I cried a little. And then I ate my supper, alone, in front of the television. When he came back home 3 and a half hours later, I acted like a child and mostly just ignored him.
It must be a tumor.
Because the TRUE story here, is that he wanted to go to the open mic night at the Jacoby Storehouse, and had said he might go and I could come with him and I said I didn't know. He said he would see how he felt when he got off work. He said this a couple of days ago.
Well, hell's bells. I forgot. And cooked a beautiful supper of Pepper steak and baked potatoes and salad. And when he walked in and looked at the table (that was all set) he said..oh...uh....I was going to go to the JSH...and I just looked at him and said--do whatever you want. He said, well...I guess I could just stay home tonight...and I said--hey, don't do ME any favors. If you want to go--GO.
You can see how silly this is.
Except...he WENT. He asked me to make him a pb&j sandwich to eat in the car, so he could shower. And I did. See, he doesn't get home from work until about 6:10. These things start at 6:30. And it's a 30 minute drive to get there. I hate that rushing around and flying down the road. I won't do it, most of the time. It is not fun for me.
And I got mad.
Maybe it's not a tumor. Maybe it's that brain eating amoeba that people in Louisiana got from using a neti pot. Whatever it is, I can't keep getting all crazy like this. I'm not getting enough sleep and I'm still coughing and I feel so overwhelmed by my life that it scares me.
Whatever it is, it can't be being helped by these 2 AM nights I've been keeping. I need to set a plausible sleep schedule and stick to it. It almost feels like the early stages of menopause ALL OVER AGAIN. And if that's the case, I'll shoot myself in the head, I swear. Because I don't ever want to do that again.
This may be the craziest blog post yet...