Today is our 129 month anniversary. I love you. I'm am still aglow on how well you nailed ... my birthday. Everyone covets my tampon holder especially.
I am however going to be brutally honest with you:
Next time you go on a business trip that requires you to wake up at THREE FUCKING KILL ME NOW THIRTY in the AM, could you PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE Turn of the device of torture we call an alarm clock before you leave?
At that time of the morning, all I can do is flail and snooze, flail and snooze. This continues for the 1 hour limit, when I can sleep again--only to forget about it in the morning. Then what happens? Well lather. Rinse. Repeat.
I am so incredibly bone tired and it's ALL YOUR FAULT for going away on a business trip, so we can pay our mortgage and buy me tampon holders and last night's pizza delivery.
By the way, you really need to ask for a raise so we can hire a house boy from a sorority to make my coffee and rub my feet while you are gone, since you're too busy to fly back 1000 miles every morning to do your husbandly duties.
Did I mention since you weren't here to make us dinner, we had to order delivery? It hurt me to do so since it is your job to make dinner most nights.
P.S. Could you be a little more considerate next time, and pre-make a weeks worth of cocktails before you go? You know how challenging my life is without my first Bloody Mary of the day. I forgive you this time.
Seriously, CG, I loooooooove you and missssssss you. Hurry back from your trip.