I’m grouchy. Really grouchy. Don is feeling sad. I guess I am, too. But my sadness comes in the form of fourteen carat bitchiness.

The kids did not have a good weekend with their Dad. And now it will be almost four weeks until they see him again.

Don and I got on the dreading bandwagon over the weekend. I look like an alien. The dreads, obviously, need time to mature. My head is itchy as hell right now. I’m still wearing a bandanna and hoping I don’t have to shave my head again.

The weather sucks. Cold and damp, drizzling grey, autumn rain.

Michael’s new level of mobility is translated into a bad streak. The kid is a terror.

Kate is crabby.

Every time the heat comes on, my heart stops. The invoice is still hanging on my fridge.

And I can’t figure out a way to write an article about forgiveness, which has been on my mind lately, especially after some specific conversations here in Janet Land and some of Stiva’s recent blog posts, without getting too personal and sharing too much of my own experience with terror and forgiveness. I tried tapping one out a little while ago but it was “too far gone” as they say and couldn’t be salvaged enough for posting.

Hm.

Something to think about, I guess.

AnnieL was right. This Monday sucks.