Bad to the Binge

I'm not bad; I just shop that way.

It's not even noon and already I've been on a jewelry bender at Nordstrom.com and I may need this B. Makowsky leather purse from Endless.com.

Think of it as retail retaliation.

And what am I retaliating against? Oh, let me see... feeling unloved, unappreciated, unimportant and incredibly tired after a late night in which husband and at least one oversized puppy snored; cricket — strategically placed somewhere behind my head — chirped ALL NIGHT; Middle Child kept screaming about eyeballs in her sleep.

Aye.

AND husband was mad/worried because he forgot I was two cities and two hours away last night for an event, hence my 11:30 p.m. arrival, hours past my bedtime. This a.m., I had to follow sweet, but oh-so-challenging Middle Child around the house, barking orders like a drill sergeant. Same thing I do every day, all day. Then Youngest Child complained about the lunch I lovingly packed for him.

Once again, I'm persona mom grata.

Oh, and I lost the back of the automatic door lock for my keys, so I act like I'm living in the 20th century, unlocking doors by hand. Ugh.

See? I needed some shopping.