It's Past My Bedtime

Dear John,

 

I had all kinds of musings to share with you tonight. But somehow it's way past my bedtime. They'll have to wait.

 

I had a good day at work. I dropped the car off for an oil change before work and picked it up after. That's one of the great things about a small town - everything is within walking distance of everything else. I came home, fed the animals, fed myself, watched Big Bang Theory, and came to bed. I paid a few bills on line, texted with Jen for a while, and somehow it's way past my bedtime.

 

A cold front is coming through and it has Jethro all wound up and edgy and wanting to be held all the time. I've been trying, with mixed success, to keep him off the keyboard and I'm getting crabby over it. I just got up to let him out, tripped over two cats on the way to the door, and had to bring him right back in because all he wanted to do was bark. Yes, I'm getting crabby.

 

You were always good at putting up with me when I'm like this. At least I'm not the moody type - you were always glad about that. The only thing you couldn't handle was when I was illogical. But, as I told you, it's illogical to expect yourself to be logical all the time. Tonight I'm not logical or patient or even decent company. So I will take my grouchy self off to bed and sleep it off. Maybe the cold front is affecting me, too. I'm hurting and itching tonight so it probably is. I suppose the dog isn't completely to blame.

 

You may not want to visit us tonight - I'm crabby, Jethro is all wound up and wanting attention, the cats are bounding through the house chasing each other. You may want to stay where you are tonight. I love you too much to subject you to this insanity.

 

Sleep good tonight,

Joan.