We filed our taxes last night. Which is good, I guess. It's done and not to be worried about again until this time next year. We're getting a refund. Nothing fabulous, but every little bit counts, right? And what fabulous thing are we doing with our $3200? Small vacation? No. Gifts for the kids? No. Redecorating? No. Debt. ::Sigh:: Paying off debt. Which is the grown up and responsible thing to do. Because of interest and... stuff. Obviously, it was Scott's idea. And I'm okay with it. Debt and interest and blah, blah, blah. I get it. Okay. Maturity or whatever. But I can't help it. When I see cash like that, I see it in shoes. Not debt relief.
I may NEVER grow up.
This morning was a beating. I called my husband, probably 30 times. No exaggeration. He wasn't answering. And I was having an all out breakdown. It doesn't take much before my first cup of coffee to send me over the edge.
Anyway, I dropped Carter off at school minus his bag. His bag had his bottles in it and I couldn't get ahold of Scott to have him drop it off. Visions of my unconsolable baby crying out in hunger and his teachers not being able to feed him swarmed through my head.
I have a flare for imaginative drama.
But I was genuinely stressed. Luckily, he called me back as I pulled into work (I'd been calling him for an hour) and calmed the mental meltdown I was having. But still... good thing it's Friday.