You know that 2-3 seconds after you flush the toilet when you realize it’s not flushing your deposit as it should and your brain races to find the plunger you hope is right next to the toilet because you just can’t handle cleaning up a bathroom floor covered in poo water?
If those are the 2-3 seconds most stressful seconds of my day, I’m calling that day a WIN because at least it happened at home.
I wrote yesterday about the 3 hours I wallowed without internet access that will basically throw off my routine for the next 5 days. Today, I have shit to do and it’s not even Friday. I have shit to do OUTSIDE of my house cocoon. For the normal person, this would be no big deal, yo. But I’m not a normal person; I’m a pre-pre-agoraphobic.
I’m a pre-pre-agoraphobic who likes her routine like she likes her television: on and working, and if it ain’t working, someone’s losing a throat.
So last night when I mentioned to my Dear Husband* that I “have a busy day tomorrow,” and Dear Husband* responded, “Yes, I know. You’ve only mentioned it 10 times,” I may have thought about pulling a hamstring to launch my foot up to knock out a Dear Husband* windpipe.
And then when he followed up his windpipe-losing comment by saying, “I have a busy day every day,” the list of flowers I would pick for his funeral ran through my brain.