Feeling generally cranky. Not about anything big. It’s the miniature annoyances that get me. The greasy butter knife he left on the counter. His underwear on the bedroom door knob. His hair in the bathroom sink. His beer taking up too much room in the frig. The nonstop pinging sound of cowboys shooting at each other on his favorite old TV shows.
Yet I know, that if he leaves the scene before I do, it will be the absence of these annoyances that will bring me to my knees with grief.