Rainy Days and Mondays...

...don't always get me down.

We had a really bad storm late yesterday morning. Tornado sirens and all. So relieved we didn't lose power. A cold front came through and it got really cold - 50 degrees or so. But somehow, the gloomy weather didn't bother me. My mood can be heavily influenced by the weather at times. It looks like we have a good, sunny, warm week in store. High should be 72 today, and up to 80 or so by Thursday or Friday.

I met with my client's tax accountant yesterday afternoon to drop off tax documents and discuss a complicated issue. The power was out at his office but we managed with the light from the window. Big relief to hand off the documents. Plus, we figured out a great way to save some taxes. I still have lots to do, but that relieved some of my stress.

Now, update on The D. He's been very sweet the last few days. After my meeting last night, I stopped by Chick-fil-a and got him a sandwich, cole slaw and milkshake. One of his favorite meals. I always cut his sandwich in half in case he fills up on the milkshake and wants to save it for later. I got hungry later in the evening, so I ate the other half of his sandwich. Fast forward to this morning. Sarita asked him what he wanted for lunch. He wanted the other half of the sandwich. When he went to the fridge to show her, I heard him start ranting about the missing sandwich.

Then here he came, into the den. All up in my face. I told him I'd eaten it. He was practically shouting at me that he thought someone had thrown it out. Of course, who could've thrown it out but me? I told him I was sorry I ate it and that I'd get him another one for lunch. He said no. I asked him what he wanted, and he said he was trying to figure it out. He stormed out of the den back to the kitchen. I heard Sarita ask him about tomato soup, and I suppose he acquiesced and retreated to his recliner.

I went into the kitchen and asked Sarita to go get him another fuckin' chicken sandwich. I was on the verge of tears, but angry, too. I swear to god, he is so spoiled. Hard to please. Rarely expresses appreciation or says thank you. Usually it doesn't bother me much, but I have a hard time when he lashes out at me. Maybe he's constipated. He came in a few minutes with the Miralax measured out in the cap and asked me if it was the right amount. Ususally I fix it for him, but I always show him how to do it. So today he did it himself.

So now, my mood is ruined. I'm gonna get a hot shower, probably cry in it, get dressed and ready and then get the heck outta Dodge.

JoJo's back in town and we're hitting the GreenLine after work. That's always fun.