Leopard Pajamas

I'm sitting on my bed with wet hair. I got out of the shower about ten minutes ago and do not feel up to brushing it or securing it in a bun. My hair is just sitting on my right shoulder, soaking the long-sleeved, black-and-white leopard (I googled it to make sure it wasn't cheetah) shirt. I'm also wearing the matching pants. I look like a big, fat, sad black and white leopard.

 I'm listening to my Clarensau radio station that is now playing John Mayer. If you are wondering, 'Your Body is A Wonderland' is playing. The live version. I hope it is stuck in your head for the next week because I'm sure it'll be stuck in mine. Misery loves company.

Speaking of miserable, I'm sick. I've got that bug that is going around and it's uncomfortable and stupid. I spent the day doing finances, meal-planning (to get healthy and lose weight) and meal-prepping (to get healthy and lose weight) and we ended up having take-out pasta for dinner. Turns out it takes a while to go to three different grocery stores, come home, unload and put it away, chop and peel and a myriad of other cooking verbs to prep. I also broke another rule, eating after 7:00pm. You know, you lose a lot of weight just by telling yourself no more food after 7. I have a soup going and I "cooked" some Tilapia. Cooked is in quotations because they were really small pieces and I meant to only cook them for 7-10 minutes but I didn't hear the timer go off so they are extremely well done. At this point, I'm wondering if they are edible. I guess I'll find out.

This weekend was pitiful and I feel pitiful. I get all mopey when I'm sick. Why me and all that. It doesn't help that I hate Bryan right now, so you know how that goes. You know, people don't talk much about when they hate their spouse. I mean, they'll post on Facebook or Instagram when their spouse does something sweet but it's rare that they are like, Dude. I could just PUNCH my spouse right now. Don't act like you never feel that way, if you have a significant other. I think there is something fundamentally wrong with you if you never hate your spouse. I equate it, in my mind, to having siblings.

It's like, when you just get so ding-dang frustrated with them that you could just hide their favorite pair of jeans and smirk as they tear apart the bedroom looking for them? But you still love them. But you also hate them. Does this make sense? I'm not trying to say that Bryan is a bad guy cause he isn't. He didn't even do anything to deserve me hating him today. He's a great guy. But he can be such a douche-copter without even trying. So can I. Real love is living with a douche-copter and thinking, man I hate that guy, but he's my guy to hate.

You know who does not belong on my Clarensau and John Mayer Pandora Station? MILEY CYRUS. There is a time and place for her and this. isn't. it.

Skip.

Anyways, I love Bryan. Poor guy is coming down with the same stuff that Shep got, and then I caught, and he had to do TWO three hour gigs yesterday. Ugh, that has to be hard. Today he just wanted to lay around and not do anything. Understandable. But, laundry still has to get done, groceries need to be bought and life must go on. All too often the two of us just don't do that life stuff. We certainly don't like doing life together. Which is fine. But we are always on opposite schedules. Our life is opposite each other.

I get tired of the struggle.

I am tired of the struggle.

Tomorrow is a new day and all this will be washed away. Tomorrow, I'll be grateful for the work I did today. Tonight, I'll just listen to soft music and brush my hair.