Not Today Please.

Not really feeling well today. I knew it was happening last night when I felt tired at 9pm but by this morning, I was hit with a truck.

Husband: What's the matter with you?

Me: ::mumble:: I feel like shit.

Husband: What feels like shit?

Me: You name it, it hurts. Just leave me alone, your voice isn't helping.

Husband: Well somebody needs to wake up in a better mood.

Now here's where I don't get men. Yah, I was rude but I'd already explained that I didn't feel good. I told him to leave me alone. Where in there does it say to get butt-hurt because I asked him to leave me alone? This is my life. It's a constant battle of wits and pride. I hate it. Because he felt pushed into feeling like I just beat his pride with a bat, he took it upon himself to continue the 3rd inquisition.

Me: Why do I need to wake up in a better mood? I feel like shit. Could you just make sure M is up and getting ready for school before you leave?

Husband: You can't even get up and do that?

Me: Sure I can, continue being an asshole....I got this.

By this time, I'm attempting to roll out of my blankets and a wave of nausea hits me. (No, I'm not pregnant.) So I lay back down to try to let it pass.

Me: ::mumbling:: I'm gonna throw up. Please don't talk.

Husband: Oh so now I can't even talk?

Now, I'm not even sure what I did next but it involved frantically crawling to the bathroom. The rest should be assumed. And here is why my husband is lucky I didn't feel well enough to kill him this morning.

Husband: Did you just puke?

Me: ::groaning:: Mmmmm hmmmmm.

Husband: Did you?

Me: ::sigh:: YES!

Husband: Why'd you puke?

Me: ::silence::

Oh. My. God. How the hell should I know why I puked? There's a stomach virus going around. Maybe it was the 3 Cokes I drank last night before bed. But seriously, what kind of a stupid question is that? All I'm thinking at this point is when this puking episode is done, I'm gonna kill him.

Husband: Jean, are you okay?

Me: Yes, could you just leave me alone? I'll call you later.

Husband: What's your problem?

Now here is where my head explodes. What's my problem? Well jeez Sherlock, what do you think?

Me: Have a good day at work. (I turn the bathroom fan on and drown out anything else he has to say.)

Yah, I'm not feeling well today and it ain't getting better. This tirade on this here blog has taken way longer than it needed to take because of some pit stops back in the bathroom. Oh and the text I just received from my husband?

Husband (text): Why'd you puke this morning?

I haven't replied. I'm too busy trying exact my revenge on him later for being a clueless man. I hope every body's Wednesday is better than mine.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.