Triggers come in all sizes.

3:40 the red numbers say.

ScrtichScratch.

Ugh. Seriously?!

A mouse again.

It triggered me. BIG TIME.  I wasn't expecting that. Maybe it was being so tired that allowed me to follow the trigger to anger.  Whatever it was, I went there.  Yet ANOTHER thing I can't control. AGH! So mad.  I could tell I needed to calm down.  I was already starting to get a tension headache, and my back, which already hurt, was now hurting in new places.  So. Mad.  I hate the stupid little rodents.  I hate their sneakiness.  I hate the deceptions- "Oh no, we don't live here- what that poop? That's not mine- must be from some other mouse." F'real? I laid awake FUMING for a full hour until it started to dissipate.

Husband asked is I was mad at him.

"No. The mouse triggered me."

I feel stupid for even admitting it- but there it is.
And so no, I wasn't directly mad at Husband.  But I was mad that this mess was brought into my life.  And that is on him.  And so I was kind of mad at him too.  And THAT is on me.

I did finally fall asleep- sort of.  Husband got up around 5ish- I don't know what time it was because I didn't want to look at the clock again.  He decided that if he had any hopes of getting his scripture study in this morning he'd better get up. I'm proud of him for keeping on his track though I was derailed.

So now here I am, tired, at 8am, sore and in my footie pajamas with a hatred for a wee bitty rodent and a giant elephant named Lust.  And I own that.

A mouse triggered me folks.

It's going to be a long road ahead.



And you'd better believe that the first thing I do when I get outta these footie pajamas is to go buy more mouse traps and poison.  No mercy in battle.  (And with the addict- no mercy with addict- mercy is reserved for HUSBAND.)