I'm so freaking tired today. I've been up since 3 am when Mo's phone alarm went off and I was the only one who woke up to turn it off. I was ready to kill her/ still am!!! 3 am what the hell was she thinking. She set the damn thing wrong. Then the dog decided it was time to get up and get scratched. The hubby is soooo sympathetic. (read sarcastically) He just doesn't get it. Or he's just so withdrawn with the PTSD it's hard to tell if he cares what's happening with me.
When the dog bit me his reaction was less than concerned for me. He was more concerned about the dog and defending the dog than making sure I was okay. I'm still bruised more than a week later. And damn if it doesn't hurt still.
