It never fails that the day after you tell someone how great things are going, that’s the day that blows up in your face.
Zack and I had dinner with some friends last night, and I told them about how well nursing was going. I was starting to get a handle on my time management, I told them. I was starting to feel a wee bit comfortable.
Words of death.
Luckily, my husband is smarter than I am. He must have taken note that I was mindlessly declaring my awesomeness at dinner last night. Because tonight, when I came home from work totally ragged — having not eaten anything more than a granola bar since my alarm went off at 5:10, having run my ass off all day long, never sitting down, never catching a break — he had dinner ready and waiting for me. And he had the margaritas pre-blended. And then, when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he turned on Crazy, Stupid, Love, which he rented just for me.
I’m so glad he’s smarter than me.