Last night I had a full-on cry fest for no really good reason other than still being really, really upset that my beautiful husband lost his legs in a terrible and senseless war. I blew snot all over his face when he leaned in to possibly kiss my forehead and caught a "cry cough." How lovely of me. But for a drunk guy, he did really well. He pulled out all the tissues and just let me wail.

And I do still get really upset about all of this. We were out to dinner with a group of warrior families and a tire on Aaron's wheelchair popped like a freaking gun. I am surprised no one ducked under the table or had a meltdown. I honestly thought it was errant firework in his bag left over from some fun this past weekend, which would have been embarrassing. I mean, what the hell. He has borrowed a friend's wheelchair and he said it was like walking around in too-big shoes (which is really funny). But it still sucks and I suppose it always will. Having prosthetics is not akin to getting your limbs back. Some VA reps try to discount disability of single limb guys because they think that working with a fake arm or leg is just as productive as having a real one. That's really ignorant but you can't win them all, right? It just isn't the same and I am terrified of all the future health problems Aaron might face because of all of this shit.

But life has been better lately. Calmer. It's not one thing or another, or even a concerted effort to do better at dealing with all of this. I feel like our priorities are in line and we're understanding each other a little better. I care less that he won't clean, but he cares enough to be less messy. I don't let the inspections bother me because this isn't my house- it's the government's house and I bet if all government housing were subject to random inspection more people who needed it would have it and fewer who abused it wouldn't.

I also keep accidentally acting like an adult and I am not bothered by this at all. For instance, my shower head was supposed to be fixed when my shower was also re-chalked. Instead, a baggie of screws was left on the bench and the shower head still sags like a sad old lady. I really wanted to go down to the desk and ask if "they" weren't fixing shower heads anymore because this wasn't the first time the work order was missed, but instead I sent an email to someone in a better position to investigate why it wasn't done and make sure it happens. I'm not asking for a prize for not being a bitch... but it does feel nice! Usually when I act like an adult it's because I have to and I'm really grumpy about it, but lately I don't mind it.

Some friends have been really worried that my loony toons "Susan" commenter really bothered me, and while usually something like that would set me off, it didn't. I mean, I don't know maybe I am actually learning to let things go. I wouldn't get too ahead of myself though, I could lose it again tomorrow over something else just as stupid.

And to close out the post, I would like to share with you a comic from one of the funniest women on the planet, Allie of Hyperbole and a Half, from the post "This Is Why I'll Never Be An Adult." Here is something I think I'd like to frame: