I feel the need to wax poetic about my darling husband, Bryan.

Or, as he is known around our house, Cooterhead Saggynuts.

(Mine is Lumpy Vagina.)

Bryan has been uber-fabulous this week.  Not only did he make dinner on Monday night, and then forgive me for not cooking on Tuesday night, he bought me a HUGE surprise! 

He bought (and installed!) a doggie door for the house.

You have NO idea how this eases our daily routine.  But what amazed me is that Bryan was able to sweet-talk our landlord into letting him do it.  Our landlord is a VERY nice guy, but he’s ani-pet and was VERY anti-dog-door.  But because Bryan has totally fixed our house up (and they were all things the landlord SAID he would do and never did), Bryan was able to convince him that we SO need a doggie door.

Not only that, but Bryan has gone walking with me twice this week.  He doesn’t know it, but these walks mean a lot to me.  I would take them regardless, but it’s so nice to have him beside me so we can talk and laugh.  He never grumbles about it, either; he just laces up and we go.

And the biggest thing!  I’ve been bitching (SURPRISE!) about how worn out I am lately.  Spring Break always hits me really hard because my inner child wants to go somewhere and do something, but work never lets me go.  So I was bummed out.  But when I suggested me doing something on Saturday, Bryan staunchly opposed.  Why?  Because he has made arrangements for us to visit Chattanooga. 

BRYAN DID SOMETHING AS A SURPRISE AND DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME ABOUT IT! 

The weather looks to be gorgeous in Chattanooga next weekend, and I can’t wait to go.  I may even buy new shoes (because I’m stupid and do that for trips where I’ll walk a lot). 

He is my favorite husband.  Period.

Although this is a FABULOUS step forward in the “equality” of Disney, I’m fairly disappointed that the soundtrack will be written by Randy Newman.  For a fairy tale set in New Orleans, could we not get Harry Connick Jr. or even Vince Vance?

So, today’s the day.

But I think my Ides actually happened yesterday, so I may be okay.  Yesterday, I had a horribly shitty day.  Like, very much so.  Horrible. (You couldn’t tell, but I said that last one in french.  Cause, yes, that’s how bad it was.  French-bad.) And because I’m stupid, I expected my husband to just beam into my head and figure out that I had a horribly shitty day and try to fix it.

Instead, I asked him to take a walk with me. 

We walked for two hours: downtown, Old Town, Five Points, Big Spring Park.. you named it, we walked there.  Saw lots of people we know.  Saw a dog we didn’t know. (Edie!  So cute.) And the whole time, I was struggling to come up with words about the shitty day I’d had.  So I could.. what’s that word again?.. communicate with my husband.  But I didn’t have any words.

So we got home and I went to bed.  And here we are: THE IDES OF MARCH.  The day historically known for bad luck.  Catastrophic occurrences.  This is the day.

I tried to be proactive today: I began a new, more RESPONSIBLE routine.  I was at work by 7:10.  I have everything for the day squared away.  I am ready.

But I still have 16 hours left.