During the last hour or so of actually moving everything back into the house, I ran out of juice. What do you have when you're out of juice? Spit -- meanness, stubbornness, pride, anger, that kind of thing.
A couple of days ago, I figured out I was still running on pure spit. Very grumpy for the last week. Well, that same day, Lee's mom and brother Dale showed up on the doorstep while I was out.
I don't know why it helped, but it did. I sat around and talked, and as I BS'd, I let go of being pissed off and grumpy. I feel much better -- recovered from moving, anyway.
Ray's birthday is coming up on Sunday. Good thing I got over the crappy mood first.
By the way, I think I'm going to love my job. Not as much as I love writing, but there you go. For the first time in my life, I work with smart people. Not an idiot in the bunch. People I disagree with, sure, but no dipshits.