I was feeling a little depressed and hormonal this weekend. Actually, I was probably more moody then anything and I think I freaked Dave out a few times.
Friday night we went grocery shopping at the everloving Wal-Mart. Still great stuff, still dirt cheap... and the produce? WOW! We got strawberries that taste literally like Heaven.
On our way back to what I thought was our car, Dave said "Is that our car?", I peeked in and said "yup", and then looked at where Dave was looking to the drivers side rear panel where a BIG NEW DENT WAS and GOLD PAINT scratched along the side!!! Someone, even though there was a TON of room on that side, doesn't know how to back out of a parking space and decided to make our car a lot uglier in the process. Mind you, this was not my ugly green little Sundance but Davids beautiful silver Accord! UGGGG!
Of course, there was no note with the drivers information left... the dishonesty of some people.
Dave was pretty mad about that for the rest of the night, I didn't stress too much because really, what can you do? Sure, it doesn't look so good but there was already a little dent in that same spot. Now there is a BIG dent.
I think it bothers me more that someone would be so dishonest than it does that there is a new dent in our car.
Saturday's, well... I am starting to loath them. I hate how Dave has to wake up so early and leave me in the mornings. And is gone all day.
I ran a couple errands, and to the Crazy Canucks store for some perogies to surprise Dave with for lunch. For some odd reason, I have been feeling much more giving towards him lately.
For example, when we bought our digital camcorder, we were also promised a $100 gift certificate to Foot Locker in the mail. We just got it last week, and instead of splitting it 50/50 so we could both get something, I decided to give mine to Dave so he could get those expensive basketball shoes I know he was craving.
Then Saturday night, when he got home, we headed to the mall where it was MY suggestion that he get a new shirt... just for fun, just because he is Dave. We picked one up and then headed to dinner at the restaurant.
You know what though? After the way I was this weekend and how tolerant and sweet he was, he SO DESERVES IT. It was like I somehow knew in advance that I was going to turn his Sunday into a day of hell so I had to do something ahead of time to ensure he didn't up and leave me on the spot.
So Sunday, I woke up feeling okay but then depression hit and I ended up turning into PSYCHO LIZ who cried for no reason, refused to go to church (even though I was scheduled to teach a Sunday school lesson), ranted, raved and was just plain mean.
Now here is the amazing part. Even though Dave wasn't very understanding about "how did this girl go from being pleasant to raving lunatic in three seconds flat", he did his best to cheer me up, snuggle me, and love me despite of my utter brattiness.
Time and time again he attempted to lift my spirits. Time and time again I thwarted his attempts with a low-blow.
And he still loves me. And he still held my hand as we were walking into church (despite my evil scowl), and he still told me he loved me before he left to go to his own meeting. And he still put his arm around me, gently tickled my calf, looked at me lovingly.
And I don't know how he does it, or where he finds the patience, but I do know I must be the luckiest psycho on earth.
And I think I owe him another shirt.
Dizzy-Feeling-Better-Lizzy