Well, I slept shitty last night, and no quail in sight this morning (I knew there wouldn't be, Corey got up too late). But oh, well.

I could say a lot of snotty, snide things about him right now. Like, in spite of knowing and having been told that I needed him home so I could go to the laundromat before 10, he didn't even think to come home until I called at 9:30. Of course, he had to walk because Mercedes was already in bed, so I didn't get my laundry done last night. I was nearly in a pure, full-blown rage about it, in spite of my medication. I refuse to blame that on my hormones. I had every right to be pissed. I now understand the term "dissed," because that's what he has done to me the last two times he's gone out with my dad. First, he dissed me by doing something he'd be infuriated with me about - dissing me with his double-standard, and dissing me by scaring the hell out of me and making me worry. This time, he dissed me, because you know what? I HAVE clean clothes for the trip. I had to do laundry so HE had something to wear.

Oddly enough, I'm no longer angry this morning. Must be the medication, but even rehashing it all for the diary doesn't have my hackles up, which I kind of expected it would.

We're going to go drop off the laundry, run over the the BLM office and pick up a land-access map of the area, then run back to the laundry and throw it in a dryer. Maybe we can play some cards or something while we wait for the clothes to dry. :-)

the last trail...the next path