Brian has to fly today, so he has to be at work at 5:45. He's been tripping over stuff that HE DIDN'T PUT AWAY TO BEGIN WITH, but somehow that's my fault. He came to kiss me goodbye, and I heard his car start and drive away.

Not five minutes later there's a body looming in the dark, in my doorway. I didn't hear him come back and I didn't hear him come in the house. And I know for a fact that I was awake because I was tossing and turning trying to go back to sleep, cursing him because he woke me up to begin with. And he tripped over the same box that he tripped over the first time. It was everything I could do to keep from screaming, I was so freakin' scared. My heart is still pounding, and it's been 20 minutes.

Apparently, he forgot his reflective belt and he has to have it, and hey, don't forget he HAS TO BE AT WORK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. So he's thrashing about our room trying to find it. I tell him I haven't seen it in the house in months because he doesn't usually bring it in. So he keeps thrashing about and getting more and more pissed. Finally he asks for help, but he was really pissy about it. (I won't help him look for something unless he spefically asks for help, on principle. Especially if he's being a bunghole about it.) So I get up and help him look in all the places he would have left it. Nope, no belt. After a whopping three minutes he storms off, saying he has to leave.

OK, soooooooooooooooooo...you're tripping over stuff that you left laying around, you're running late because you hit snooze too many times, you can't find a peice of MANDATORY GEAR, and somehow this is all my fault. Gotcha. I'll keep that in mind. In the meantime, HAVE A NICE STINKING FLIGHT AND KISS MY BUTT WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!!

I really hate when he flies mad at me, especially if it's not even my fault. I have this fear that something will happen to the jet (even though there's only been one crash in 40 years) and that he'll die mad at me.

It's 6 in the morning, and I have no prospects of going back to sleep now. I'm tired, I'm still shaking from thinking there was a murderer standing in my doorway, and I'm annoyed as all get out with my husband. The creep.