F is for frustrated

This is turning out to be one of those nights where I am tossing and turning and grumpy and angsty, frustrated at the pillows and the dog (we sent the usual suspects off to sleep with the sister, keeping only pepper with us) and the sound of the fan and the mating street cats and the also-trying-to-sleep-frustrated-husband.

Peps gets equally frustrated, as we take turns bothering her, but she unlike us, is able to sleep so she has since moved to the end of the bed to be left alone.

The boy leaves for Vietnam on thurs. That means a whole weekend of closet-office-toiletry clearing! I say I say.. Pretend only. I will try.

Methinks it’s time for supper.

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Author: c

my world, out of your reach

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