I am an addict.

Today has been shitty. DH called to warn me that he wouldn't be calling on Christmas to wish the little heathens a Merry Christmas. He has to be a soldier for a while. Normally DH is safe considering. He puts fuel into helicopters. Meaning he isn't out wandering around the city just waiting to be attacked by insurgents. He does the regular soldier thing, but I normally don't hear about it until after the fact. Which is good because then I'm not plagued with worry. I still worry, but it doesn't put me into super worry wart mode.

So that has me on edge, and since there was no way I was going to get back to sleep. I did laundry. All the laundry. I washed it. I dried it. I folded it. I was putting it away. When I went to put my clean, dry, folded towels in the linen closet. I was surprised with fire ants crawling all over my clean, dry, folded towels and blankets. I was seething with anger. I threw the clean, dry, folded towels that I was carrying into the floor. I ran to the garage. I grabbed the fire ant poison. And I sprayed it all over my clean, dry, folded, put away blankets and towels. I was also screaming profanities. Lots of profanities.

My poor children were in the living room, peaking around the corner. They were thinking to themselves, "Mommy is crazy! She needs to seek professional help, and soon!" Fang finally broke the silence with "Ants! Bad!" heh

Now I literally have a mountain of laundry to wash (half a dozen times to get the poison out), dry, fold and put away. Instead of starting with that. I loaded up the kids in the van. I drove to 7-11. I purchased a cold 12 pack of Coke. I drove home. I put Fang down for his nap. I put in a movie for Tater and Satan.

I now sit here drinking a glass full of icy cold bubbly brown goodness. Thinking to myself, it's a damn good think that I don't much like the taste of alcohol, or I would have been an alcoholic months ago.