Tired and woozy

I got the updated bill for my new car’s insurance today. My rates went up only $33/half year. I figure that isn’t too bad at all. I still haven’t heard from The Socialist’s agent, who I left a request with to get a quote. Supposedly I can do much better with his insurance. I’m not entirely sure what cheaper rates are going to buy me though, if I can’t even wrestle a quote out of him, so I may just let things ride as-is until August, when everything comes up for renewal.

I walked in from work last night to find The Socialist working in front of the television. He barely looked up from what ever he was up to, and didn’t so much as say “hello”. It turns out that he was eating a second-lunch of take-away Chinese. I’ll admit to being a bit disappointed, since I’d hoped to cook dinner as soon as I got home. My lunch is at 11:30, and by the time I get home I’m usually hungry for dinner (unless I nauseous from my medications), although we frequently don’t eat until after 8:00 (9:00 isn’t unusual).

I picked up the mail that was still sitting on the floor of the entranceway, sorted it, threw out the junk mail, and then headed for the kitchen. I unloaded the clean from the dishwasher, loaded dirty dishes from the sink, and started too fill the watering can to soak down the flowerbed. About this time The Socialist decides to acknowledge my presence after all, and comes out into the kitchen to play with the cats. It took about four cans worth of water to thoroughly soak the seeds I planted over the weekend plus the primroses. I then sat down in the enclosed garden area with my book and something to drink.

After I’d settled in, The Socialist told me that it was far too fine a night for sitting around “with your thumbs up your ass”, and that he wanted to head out for a while. I was tired, hungry, and a bit put out that he couldn’t even see fit to say hello to me when I got home, so I told him to have a good time.

I held off making dinner, thinking he might return with some dinner for himself and we could eat together. After an hour I couldn’t wait any longer though, and made a small steak, baby artichokes and a baked potato for myself. I’ve got to give up on trying to have meals together. It simply isn’t going to work, and only makes me cranky trying.

The Socialist returned several hours later with take-out Indian for himself and a new Star Trek Original Series DVD he’d just purchased. We watched one of the two episodes on the DVD (“Turnabout Intruder”, never one of my favorites) and then I turned in for the evening. I took another sleeping pill last night, and while it didn’t hit as quickly as the previous night’s, it certainly did its job. The only thing I don’t like is that thirteen hours after I took the pill, I’m still woozy from it.