It Wasn't Me...WAS IT?!

So, as I sit here on this dreary Sunday morning, I was looking through the news.

And that’s when I saw it:

“COPS: Woman shoots boyfriend for not letting her sleep.”

And I was a-feered.

I mean, I was sleeping pretty deeply when I was FINALLY allowed sleep last night. I don’t really remember dreaming…could it possibly be?

Was it…
ME?

I mean, it sounds like me. How creepy is that. MY boyfriend wouldn’t let me sleep last night. And as I read the article, it was a total “OMG” moment:

Anding told police that she shot her boyfriend, “because he was bothering her and wouldn’t let her sleep,” according to a police report.

…

And, while common sense says:

“Hey, who the hell is ANDING, that’s SO not you.”

I don’t completely trust that I couldn’t have some sort of weird alter-ego. I mean, I’d hope I would be smart enough to use my other personality if I felt the need to, in fact, get rid of my boyfriend.

And to be completely honest…I felt the need last night.

So…I gave him a little call just to be sure that he was still, y’know…

Alive.

And he was.

But I *totally* feel this woman’s pain. The only difference between she and I last night was that she was in reaching distance to a shotgun.

And my father locks his away.

I kid, of course, I would never shoot someone. BUT, on the other hand, someone should never bother a woman when all she requests is sleep.

I sleep when I am stressed, and last night was testing the limits of my stress-ability.

“Please just let me lay down for THIRTY MINUTES and allow me time to de-stress.”

Each and every time, I would have JUST ENOUGH time to lay my head down on the pillow before my phone would commence to ringing, and more stress-age would ensue.

And the yelling, and the screaming would begin…

*sigh*

40 missed calls, 6 text messages, and 2 voicemails later…

I decided to give up, pick up the phone, and brave the stress-age.

Thank GOD for that little bit of humor that he makes sure is put in every situation (for without which, I just *might* pick the lock on the gun cabinet):

Me: “Why are you so freakin’ MAD at me?”

Him: “I’m not MAD, I’m just PISSED OFF!”

Me: “That’s WORSE!”

Him: “No…it’s not…”

Me: “At the very least they mean the same thing…”

Him: “No…they are completely different.”

Me: “Maybe you mean you are disappointed?”

Him: “Disappointed…pissed off…same thing.”

*insert sharply raised eyebrow right here*

And as MAD as I was…not pissed off, obviously as that means something COMPLETELY different…

I laughed. Inwardly. Very inwardly. EXTREMELY inwardly. So inwardly, in fact, I felt as if my brain was going to shoot out of my ears.

After all, I didn’t want to disappoint him again.

*giggle*

However, I said all of this to make my point:

Men…if your woman wants to sleep…by all means, let her SLEEP. Unless you want the police to find YOU sitting in your car with a shot up leg.

Which, of course, brings all sorts of questions to mind that I won’t delve into right now…

Such as:

“Why the hell did he just sit there, in his car, with a shot-up leg?”

…and that, my friends, is the food for thought that I will leave you with today.