The Sunday Night Grumps

Here's the question: How can I have the Sunday Night Grumps when I don't have to go to work tomorrow? This would seem to suggest that the Grumps are a consequence of my typical Sunday activities - reading the papers (both the crappy local daily and the New York Times), snoozing on the couch and generally being lazy - rather than my attitude toward the day ahead. Because tomorrow all I've got to do is a couple hours of work here at home, while D. is working his half-day in the morning. Other than that, it's a totally agenda-less day, which is something I've been craving.

Today satisfied that itch a bit. D. made omelets for breakfast - with feta, tomatoes and amazing organic maple breakfast sausage - then I poked around for a while. I did finish cleaning the outside of the kitchen cabinets, and spent a while in the basement breaking up boxes - one of the many chores left to do after our basement flooded in a minor way a few weeks back. Then B. came with eight-month-old H., and the four of us went on a slightly needle-in-a-haystack-esque quest for lunch. It was just the late afternoon that was an ode to laziness.

But it's 6:30, we haven't started dinner - in fact, we haven't even gone grocery shopping, which totally annoys me - and D. just spent 45 minutes talking very loudly, and in excruciating detail, on the phone with his brother about the Red Sox. And for some reason that really irks me. But D. grabbed the half-made list and headed off to get at least what we need for tonight; I'm too annoyed, and probably too logy from the nap (which likely is the real culprit for the Grumps), to come up with meals for the rest of the week. He promised to bring back a bottle of red wine, though. At which point I will apologize for snapping at him and make nice while we get dinner - ratatouille, crusty bread and the aforementioned wine - going.