Got milk?

Last night I worked myself into a tizzy, over a screen door, I might add. I'd had a bunch of stuff to do, in a very warm kitchen. I just wanted some relief. Instead I found frustration. A lesson, like others - I'm bound to forget.

It all started with an unintended project and my feeble sense of recall. I've always had a short attention span. Many times my lack of focus bites me on my metaphorical behind. Ah, anyways, before I become further diverted, here is the gist of it...

We have a window, a storm door of sorts facing our backyard, and beyond that an eerie alley. It happens to be located in the kitchen, the scene of this 'shaggy dog' story. This particular door's latch doesn't lock properly. In fact, it hasn't the whole time we've lived here. Safety concerned, being the late night nut that I am, I set out to fix it before I'd become absorbed in my duties.

Sure, it looked simple enough - just needed some temporary solution for the time being. Honestly, what started off as a simple project kept me sidetracked much longer than I would have liked. I fiddled with the damn thing long enough, opening and shutting the door endlessly My feeble attempts of repair fruitless. I was becoming impatient, and grew concerned that my cursing could possibly waking the neighbors, whose windows were open for the night's heat. My efforts were proving futile. I was Rewarded by becoming even more hot and bothered!

Finally, I resigned myself to the fact it just wasn't going to work. All I'd accomplished was getting myself angry, wasting time that could have easily been spent getting on other things than needed doing in the house.

Annoyed with how little headway I made with that portion of the evening, I reached for my favored mood stabilizer, ICE CREAM. I clicked time away at the computer, spoon in hand, now yawning. All that buggering around left me tired and unmotivated. I eventually settled on going to bed and cutting my evening short. I relented to the fact the dog had whined plenty and was going to get her way. For some reason in that furry little head - her bedtime was also considered mine.

This morning I woke up full of regret. Trudging around the kitchen becoming aware of the mistake I'd made. A sink full of dishes and a cluttered counter stared me in the face. I'd barely scratched the surface, the whole house was in disarray. Humbled, I set out to make my hubby his lunch (another intended task from the night before), when I truly felt the stab of regret. No, not because I ALWAYS lose focus, never finishing what I start. I doubled over in pain, made aware of the fact I'd forgotten an important detail...

I can no longer digest certain dairy without consequence. My stomach didn't forget, even if I had. A foolish mistake certainly, but it wasn't always this way. Until recently, me and moo-juice got along just fine. Now it creates a war zone in my tummy. What a battle that was! The antagonizing didn't end there. I was at odds with myself, for ceasing to remember such a traumatic fact.

But wait, that's not all! I missed a dose of one of my meds last night (the bitch was back), yet another reason for misery. Something I realized, ruminating in bed last night, at some God forsaken hour.

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