Wrong Side of the Bed

I woke up extremely pissed off this morning. DH kept me up last night by watching a movie in bed. He was trying to cuddle but I was exhausted. This morning, I wake up to his dog yapping to get out of his crate and DH refuses to get up. I know he hears him. How can you not fucking hear those high pitched barks. It's always "his" dog or "his" bird with the high pitched barks and screeches that wakes me up on the weekend. Since we got those two creatures last fall, I have not slept in, not once.

So I get up, take my temperature, its above the coverline but its in a downward drive. Depressing. I take the dogs out, do the dishes, get the laundry going, look at my nasty ass house and realize I need to clone myself like in Multiplicity with Michael Keaton. No wonder I feel so old, I'm always tired and never done!

Oh yes, and my ankle, that I have no idea what happened to? Is swollen and I can hardly walk on it today. So I'm hobbling and I have to look forward to driving a straightdrive truck with a hard clutch with this foot all day today.

Buckin, my dear, why not let DH drive that truck back to your Dad in the mountains and you drive the SUV? Ah yes, because my Darling Husband can't drive a straight drive. He can drive a 7 ton down at the beach or the Afghan minefield but heaven forbid he have to stop an average straight drive on a slope in the North Carolina foothills. It is a situation that is best avoided in a vehicle that we don't own and costs more then both of our cars put together. The payments on this bad boy are more then my mortgage so I'll drive it back hurt foot and all. Flatlanders, I swear.

The best thing for me to do, is to just get dressed, go to the office, do the paperwork, and head to the mountains and get all this done and behind me so I can put my foot up this afternoon. Unfortunately, I can't budge DH from the bed, and he has to follow me so I can get home. This is just the icing on my suckyass weekend cake.