Today feels like a grumpy one so far. I went and slept in one of the spare bedrooms last night - at about 2:00 AM after being awakened for the second or third time by DH’s snoring which is even worse than usual now that he has a bit of a cold. I should try to be more sympathetic, but I tend towards grumpiness, instead. The “children” (I have four, incidentally. Three girls: two in their mid-thirties, one hitting up on thirty this coming October, and my “baby” son, who turned 26 last month) will be getting back today from their trip down to their father’s family reunion in Philadelphia. They drove down with him and his current wife in their brand spanking new Envoy. Oh, not all of them - just my son & his GF, and my youngest daughter, her dh, and their dd. The other two girls went in their own vehicles with their own dh’s & children. To their father’s family reunion. They have a reunion every other year in a different place. He has relatives scattered everywhere. Let me say here that I do NOT have a “friendly” relationship with my ex. He, according to the kids, is so sorry (mea culpa, mea culpa my behind!) for all the “mistakes” he made in the past, and would like to “just move forward” now, with our respective lives - be friends. Picture me doing a large “harrrruummmmph!!!!!! I’m moving on with my life alright, and have been for quite a long time, now, but with a friend like him I would have no need for any enemies, and you can take that to the bank! The man has Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which I suppose isn’t entirely his fault, but it does mean that he doesn’t possess an honest bone in his entire body, and can say (and seem) whatever/however seems to be what people want him to say or feel. And very convincingly, I might add. But this is making me grumpier, so I guess I’ll “move on”…as I was saying, they’ll be home later on today, and DS & his GF will come back here for dinner tonight and to spend the night before flying back to L.A. tomorrow. Then we won’t see them again until Christmas. <sob> He (DS) looks so cute sleeping in the spare bedroom that I did in a very masculine & rustic decor just in case he ever wanted to come home to live again. Hah! Fat chance of that, and to be quite honest, none of us would probably be very happy in the long run if he DID come back home to live with DH & I. He’s too old, now. How sad, eh? Well, since I am the “designated khat feeder” in my children’s absence, I’m going to have to throw on some clothes and head over to DD’s house to feed her khats. AND clean their litter boxes, too. It’s always been my goal in life, you know. Perhaps I should’ve become a veterinarian. I bet I spelled that wrong. How can you BE something that you can’t even spell? Okay, I ate some Fiber One with a banana and some raisins in skim  milk. Am drinking cawfee as I type.  I still have no intentions of weighing myself. I think my reluctance stems from the one time I attempted to join a weight watchers group and had to be weighed in front of everybody. It was a traumatizing experience. I won’t even let them weigh me at the doctor’s office. I bet most people think thay HAVE to get weighed there. No such thing. When they ask me to step on the scale, I just gather myself up into this very regal stance (picture the prow of a very large ship gliding forward with this tiny little ant-person in a flowered smock jumping up and down and trying to stop it with her bare hands. Ain’t gonna happen…) and I say, “NO THANKYOU” and step into the examining room leaving no room whatsoever for argument. Works every time. In fact, just thinking about it has made me a little less grumpy. I still insist on the Mister Peanut bank, though. I ordered one from Ebay a week or so ago. Twenty bucks. I dunno. Twenty bucks is a little off-putting, to be perfectly frank. Seems like I’m worth more than Twenty bucks. Maybe I should see about a gold plated Mister Peanut.