Anger is better than tears.

"Honey, you made my toast too light.  It's just heated bread."

My god, I have the pickiest spouse on the planet.

I like my toast toasted.  So, naturally I would assume this would be good for Papi, as well.

Nope.

"Honey, you made my toast too dark.  I can't eat it."

Really?

I remember when I heard these words and I asked, "So, really you just want heated bread, right?"

"Yes!"

I thought I had it down.

But now it's too light.

Our toaster oven doesn't really have a number setting, it just has a pic of the dark toast and a pic of the light toast.

But honestly, there's no pleasing Papi when it comes to food.

I tried to make something healthy for him so that his infection riddled body would start to heal.

I made the trashiest healthy stir-fry I could muster.

However, all I have to work with is wheat free, dairy free and sugar free foods.

Broccoli, hamburger meat and quinoa were the main ingredients, along with some sesame oil and Bragg's 'soy sauce'.

Well, Papi ate half of the meal.  That's pretty good I'd say, considering today's toast went straight into the bin because it wasn't quite right.

Helloooooooo Goldilocks!  You're missing a few blond curls!

Anyway, Papi is starting to feel better, but the nausea is impeding my love's strength.

My dearest love is losing a lot of weight and it scares me.

When I lose weight, my mind says it's good, even if it's not.

Yet, when someone I love loses weight unintentionally, I get scared.

Probably because the rational part of my brain equates it with my own mental anguish of the eating disorder.

I'm starting to feel better with this whole Xmas Meltdown.  I should!  It comes every year and every year I get better at fighting it off, depending on what's going on at the time.

I decided to be proactive, yet again, in finding cash that we're owed.  I went directly into the office of the person who has been evading our phone calls and not sending our cheque.

The flood was a year ago.  Give us our fucking insurance money already!

He wasn't impressed that I strong armed him into saying out loud, in front of the receptionist who witnessed it, "Yes, I can guarantee your money will be ready by the end of the week."

I may be a short 'woman' to this gargantuan, walking slime ball, who wouldn't look me in the eyes, but I'm a lot tougher than I look.

If this prick doesn't have our money when he says he will, I'll be taking a walk over to our local cable company's 'news dept' and have a chat with them about Wawanesa's less than proper ethics.

I'm getting angry now, which is much better than crying.

Here's today's gratitude for an even better new year to come:

I'm grateful that I have enough spunk to carry through with fighting for my rights.

I'm grateful for the world's greatest baby sister who adamantly said she'd send us money in this difficult time, and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

I'm grateful to be married into a family that are supportive, making me feel like I have a surrogate 'dad' to tell me it's all going to be ok.

I'm grateful that Psycho Kitty hasn't dismembered my cats yet, and is starting to come down to our basement area in peace.

I'm grateful that mi esposo is now holding conversations and behaving like the brat I love.