Pouting

Standard

I don’t have spring break off next week. That’s a first in five years. I know I don’t, technically, need a spring break since I’m out of the hero business. But it was our time, as a family, to recharge a little; to reconnect after the grueling pace that is a coaching family. And this year, I’ll miss out.

Munchkin is going to her aunt and uncle’s house for the week and Coach and Princess Crybaby will spend the week together. And I’ll be at work. At a job I enjoy, no doubt, but at work. Not taking Princess Crybaby to the park. Or the zoo. Or the mall. Or sitting in the floor during the day and letting her cook for me. Or napping with her. I’m pretty hung up on this, apparently.

Hormones are weird. The stupidest things bother me these days. I hope this passes in a few more weeks. I’m really starting to annoy myself with how moody I am.

I think I’ll take Munchkin lunch and see if sitting with her and hearing about the day of a 4th grader cheers me up.

On another note, I am going to try the couch tonight and see if I can work this kink out of my shoulder and my attitude.

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