Besides being in a foul mood (brought on by MANopause if you get my drift, and the impending arrival of Aunt Flo), I have groceries melting on the counter, laundry mouldering in the washer and a babysitter due in an hour. See, Scott and I are going to a comedy show tonight. Hello Irony? Meet Life. Life, Irony. We've been grumping at each other all day. The last thing I want to do is sit in a car with him all the way to the club pretending that everything's sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows then sit together to listen to some lame-ass comic talk about relationships all bloody night. Oh yeah, baby. Just what the doctor ordered.
Sigh. Well off I go to prepare for my evening of hilarity. I dare this guy to clear up my black mood. He'd better be fucking funny.