Post Partem Depression Is Not A Legal Mental Illness

But PMS is! And I think I'm suffering from it right now. You know how my plans never seem to work out the way I think they should? Today is no exception. Only today left me in tears. Mike has been buying my lunch for me quite a bit lately, and frankly, he's getting tired of it. I am too, I don't like to rely on him to eat. But somehow, my checkbook has been in the red for a couple weeks now and with each little pay check I pay my tithe, I buy gas, buy groceries and last week I bought some pictures I had taken of Shael and then my whole check is gone. Mike has had to buy gas for me more than once. The price of gas is not helping, by the way. At $2.69-$2.77 a gallon, $20.00 just doesn't get me as far as it once did.
So today, I get this day off and I have this brilliant idea that I'll make Mike's lunch for him, home made chicken and dumplings, complete with home made bread and a chocolate cake from scratch. It was suppose to be a surprise. I called him at 9:45 to ask him if he wanted to come home to eat or if I should bring it to him. He surprised me, instead. He told me he was going out to eat with his Mom at the Mexican restaurant. I started crying right away, even though I honestly tried not to. I tried to sound flippant as I said "Oh, well, I guess you can eat it for supper". I'm sure I didn't pull it off as well as I wanted. Eating it for supper will utterly destroy the purpose. I make supper for him every night. He eats my cooking in the evenings all the time, there won't be anything special about it. I wanted to tell him "thank you" for all he's been doing for me lately, and it just blew up in my face.
After I scrounged up enough to change to go buy milk and butter at Bradshaw's for the dumplings and mashed potatoes (he can't have chicken and dumplings without mashed potatoes) I put everything away in the refrigerator except for the chicken, which is still cooking, and cried into my pillow.
Talk about letting the wind out of my sails. Now I remember why I hate surprises.