Mommy is a Fusspot

This is what my daughter said to me today, shortly after I picked her up. I laughed when she said it--we've been calling her a fusspot for well over three years. But unlike when we say it about her, I really am grouchy today.

• DH (doesn't stand for "dear" today, by the way) picked 10:30 last night to attack a slow drain in our upstairs bathroom. He is very, very good at many, many things...plumbing just isn't one of them. So he banged and plunged and dropped things and made all kinds of racket for a few hours before waking me (sort of) at 2 a.m. to tell me to call the plumber today. The sink went from slow to completely un-usable and I'm wiped out for lack of sleep. Thanks, hon.
• The plumber can't come until tomorrow. PITA.
• While we're talking about him, we have this godforsaken walnut tree in my side yard. It's huge--towers over my two-story house. One of many junk trees to litter my tiny lawn. And around this time ever year, it starts pelting the yard with walnuts. Which are not soft. So last night, the damn nuts start pounding the roof and the AC unit. And Head Dipshit acts like this is so shocking, that they're damaging our property. God only knows what they're doing to the neighbors' house. But he still won't lose the tree. I have two arborists coming next week to give me estimates on drastically pruning it, but it has to stay. I wonder if I can slip them a little cash to kill it. Accidentally. Whoopsee.
• I had to go to a class coffee at DS's school this morning. I loathe walking into rooms full of people for social events. I'm a small-crowd kind of girl and feel so horribly out of place at crap like that. Bleh.
• I keep stuffing my face and am getting downright fat. It's compulsive.
• We're out of dog food. And the WDCL eats prescription food that I can only get from our vet. Who's 20 minutes away. Off we go...