Fussy.

One day, I'll stop obsessing over my husband's moods. After this morning's bed-in-underwear scene, he's been somewhat fussy all day. He called me when I was on my way home from work to fight a bit more about how I didn't let him get enough sleep because I wanted to get to work on time, and now, he's lying next to me, pouting and pretending to sleep.

When he was using, I don't remember this stubbornness and whininess. He was able to act like a grown up, mostly, until the last few weeks before I found the needles and this whole recovery business started (for me, at least).

We went to see the Simpsons movie with friends tonight. It was funny. He kept his head on my shoulder to emphasize that he is SO TIRED because he had to get up 20 MINUTES earlier than he wanted to. Instead of getting upset with him for being batshit insane, I enjoyed his head on my shoulder. His hair smells nice, and it felt soft against my ear. He giggled at the movie, so no matter how much he wants to pretend that he was SO WAY TOO TIRED to enjoy it, I know he enjoyed it.

I want a new obsession. I'm going to clean my house tomorrow like someone important's coming over...because someone important IS coming over! I think she's even going to get a new tattoo! And we're going to have coffee and play with the dogs and ride in the car!

My pitbull is stealing. She's on some kind of kleptomaniac rampage. She just ran in the bedroom with a part of the blender, which I don't know how she acquired. I took it from her. She came back with a bottle of shampoo. I took it from her. Now she's got a shoe. Earlier, she had a box of tea. She's so wonderful and bad! Just like her daddy!