Sometimes, I amaze myself with my adulting, considering that my hormones are still on overdrive. You see, I have written a complaint—after making countless of calls and follow-ups on not having an internet connection for almost two months—in the most diplomatic way. For someone whose life depends heavily on memes and cat videos, I would have gone batshit. (Who wouldn't?) 

But there are far more upsetting things than that. Like how the baby can sleep through a thunderstorm but awakens the moment I tiptoe my way out of the room or the husband's utterly useless nipples.

Also, I am too tired to give a crap.

But I will. When the internet will not be fixed this week as promised. Until then, all feelings of resentment will be directed toward the husband.