Progress

I returned all my dreary books to the library and exchanged them for something a little more light-hearted like psychological thrillers. No more whiny tortured novels. If being married means I had to give up my dark and brooding angst ridden self....I'll try to remember that it is not just me who has to live with me (now if I could only find the "off" button) . And for anybody who has had to live with me, well oops, I didn't know then what I know now. My BIL loves to remind me of way back when I lived with sis and him and I got mad at him for breathing. Apparently I said through clenched teeth.. "Can. You. Please. Stop. Breathing." He finds this funny now and I'm sure he found it funny then, which probably incited me further. I'm sure my feet were stamped and I huffed and pouted.

My neighbor's mailboxes are still intact, I took Honey's Explorer to the library. He wouldn't find mowing down mailboxes funny. Go figure. I find it highly amusing to park MY car in all sorts of ways just to see the look on his face when he walks in from work. Like right up to the garage without actually going through the garage door. Or four feet from the actual right side of the driveway. My backing into the driveway looks like I'm coming out of doing doughnuts in the middle of a field late at night.

Our message button was blinking on the phone. Honey said who called? I dunno, I don't usually look for the light on the phone. It was my psychiatrist confirming my appt for tomorrow. I could almost see Honey doing a freaking Happy Dance in his head.

See I can laugh at myself now THAT proves I'm not crazy. I just gotta keep smiling and nodding until after my appt tomorrow, I don't want any white-coated men being summoned to come take me away. That doesn't sound fun, now does it? Of course it doesn't. If it was fun everybody would be doing it.