Alright I am breathing.....
So the chinese got here.....without the soup and fried rice....he went back and got the soup and fried rice because he did not want to hear me scream. I was tizzying out of control, melting like the wicked witch of the East, and trying to squeeze my anger out like the last few drops in ones gonal-f pen that just teases you knowing you have fifty bucks of meds still couped up there.
Insane, yes that is me. I know. So as the sweet poor man drove off for the second time I called him and told him he forgot my duck sauce too. Do not forget the duck sauce. So I stormed into my office to write the last post while my food got cold. A little self punishment for my known bad out of control behavior I just could not stop.
The man returned with the soup and the fried rice. Do you know where this is going? I asked him if he got my duck sauce....He bowed his head in a sorrowful way. I turned around ever so gingerly and placed my hands upon the sink and bowed my head and gently shook it from side to side in utter defeat. Crazy yelling I was incapable. Brought to my last shred of energy it was all I could do to hold myself up.
I turned around ever so melodramatically and took my bag of food like it was the last food on the planet and opened it. At last something went right for David. The lovely Asian woman had psychic power and had placed thy duck sauce upon the stryofoam soup container in a gracious life saving move. David kissed his hands and held them to G-d in the sky thanking the heavens.
He then said he could kiss that woman.
So, no, he is not having an affair with the sultry voloptuous donut but I will be keeping an eye on him when I send him to get chinese.
After eating and stabilizing blood sugars David announced passionately that he would take a walk. It was not a walk but a thrashing the weeds out of the garden kind of pent up emotional plant massacre that took place upon my grounds. Ye thou they walked through the valley of the shadow of death may the lay down in now barren pastures because crazy husband ripped up the green. May God rest their weedy souls.
And now.....now David is playing the piano ever so mournfully. He keeps his foot on the peddle that makes the music carry on longer I am sure in places of the song that do not usually need it. The keys are stroked ever so softly as he retreats into the man-avoid-crazy-hormonal-wife syndrome. May G-d bless his weary soul.