Of Men and Women

You know what sucks? Feeling like you've had about three beers when you totally didn't. At 9:50 am.

Boo. Hiss.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm a woman and my hormones are all over the place. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a woman and need to control said hormones lest I procreate until my body disintegrates. I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that I'm...um...a woman.

George left for work all worried this morning. He needn't worry. Half of it is that I'm annoyed with him. Not mad. I think he thinks I'm mad. I'm not. I just don't understand a man's disconnect with volume--what levels are appropriate and when. Let's just say 11:30-7:30 are quiet hours. At least when there are sleeping children in our house. When there's not, I mean, dude. Yell, laugh your face off, slam doors, do what you want. I don't care. But since, for the grand majority of our evenings, we do have sleeping children in the house, I'm careful about how loudly I open and shut doors. I watch where I step on our 110-year-old floors that yell at you when you step on them wrong. You see, most people think the difference between men and women is biological. I don't think so. I'm pretty sure it's noise level. He once called himself a rhinoceros in a plastic shop. I was like, what? He said, Yeah. I don't break things. I just make a lotta noise.

Good thing he's such a cute rhino. Or I'd be like, dude, you're a rhino. What are you doing in my house?

Ugh. I don't feel like being a mom today. I just wanna be me.