Why do "one of those days" days exist?
Today ought to be a good day. Abigail slept for ten hours straight last night. We went to Bible Study at church this morning, which I love, and there was brunch, which I also love (sometimes too much, I'll confess). I loved talking with the women in my small group.
We're home now. There's plenty of coffee in the pot. Abigail is playing contentedly, and I don't have to do any chores but put some clothes in the dryer and make dinner later. Dinner is easy-peasy. And David will be home tonight, and we will watch LOST, which I am super excited about. (We missed it on Tuesday - no spoilers, please.)
And yet I still feel cranky and curmudgeony (is that a word?), albeit in a rather detached, "Wow, look at how cranky I am today..." sort of way. Why?
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