Anger Management

I have much agonized over this decision: Should I leave my last post up or delete it... as I am having ambiguous feelings about the whole thing, I will edit a few things and repost. This is the most fair, I think. It keeps the intellectual creation in tact, whilst not hurting the feelings of my spouse, (or anyone else for that matter). I do not apologize for my feelings, but I can be tactful in my dleivery of them when telling the whole world I had a REALLY REALLY BAD DAY.
I have removed the name calling bits I had in here before, as they really are lashes that are beneath me when I am thinking straight. I am usually the type of person that can tell you to go to hell in such a way as to have you looking forward to the trip.
And since it was pointed out to me that I DID fail to mention earlier that I was not completely out of pills this morning, (damn close to out, but not out), I have to add that little bit too.
In my defense... I had enough that were I to have taken them first thing in the morning, I would have had less pain in the AM, (but more than likely been back to suffering status come lunch time).

The entire day was a train wreck for me.
Allow me to summarize...
~Got up at 7:40, and made coffee, gave the kids breakfast, and sat to check my email. Got on phone to LRMC to find out about Rx refill.
~About 8:10, I called LRMC again. Got nowhere.
~By 9:15, I was pretty pissed off, called again.
~Now, being 10:15ish, I talk to husband on phone, get an ear full of his bad day, and he wants to know what is going on- to which I respond with an eloquent "I DON'T F'ING KNOW!" Decide to call him back when I get an answer to that question.
~10:40, final call to LRMC. In great amounts of pain, afraid to take last Percocet, as I didn't know when I would be able to get more. Talked to the receptionist, then the nurse, then the doctor's PA. Rx is filled! YAY!
~10:45 call husband tell him I am digging for my bra ad I am ready to go... Causing husband great panic and sparking off fight, as he misinterprets what I say to mean "Drop your shit and come get me". I start to cry, cracking from the frustration, and hang up the phone.
~11 am I post my first draft of my blog, as he comes steaming in the door... It was soon after this I lost all track of time.
~Get kids fed, dressed and into the car, Daughter loses her do-rag, son is slapping daughter in back of car, kids are screaming.
~Traffic. Oh boy, Traffic. Accident on 2 lane narrow road makes for slow going on a hot day in a non-air-conditioned car. (Kids still fighting)
~Go for haircuts for the boys. Sons comes out nice. Fast too. Husband sits in chair, I take kids potty and to get a drink. Come back, husband still in chair with hair half cut and looking terribly lop sided. Witness another stylist take the clippers from the first, and try to fix the "dent" she put in his head. Quite some time later, we leave the shop with my husband looking... odd. That is to say- the first woman didn't know how to translate "flat top" into German, and to fix what she did, the other lady had to give Kevin white walls on the sides, and the top so short in the middle, he looks like he has a white stripe of nearly bald on top. What should have taken 20 minutes has taken considerably longer.
~Back in the car, going to Ramstein. (I hate Ramstein.) Hot as shit outside, no A/C, and lots more traffic. The 2.5 mile trip takes WAY too long. We opt for the pharmacy first as we get on base.
~Pharmacies being what they are, they were quick to tell me I have to fill this at LRMC, as they can't reach the doctor to have it transfered... at least that is what I understood it to be, as I was so pissed off at this point the rush of blood in my ears was deafening.
~Car, hot, traffic, construction, damn it!
~Get Rx filled. YAY!
~Car, hot, traffic, construction, kids fighting and bitching about wanting a happy meal.
~Ramstein. Have to go get new ID cards, as mine is set to expire in a few days, and we get to the office around ten past three, amazingly having found a parking spot that I didn't have to gimp a mile from. (only half that, and on Ramstein, thats a miracle)
~Sent away by mean man at the window. They close at three, not four like was previously believed.
~Get back to car, and tensions being high, I set to get strapped into the passenger seat without saying much. I then reach to close door, and don't see husbands foot in the way, as he is putting the kids into their car seats, and slam passenger side door on his foot... This about sent him over the edge- a perfect ending to a fucked up day.
~More traffic on the way home, but at least the kids are napping in the back seat. Kevin is making sure his toes are not broken as he tries to drive the car, keep his temper, and finagle through the myriad of cars impeding our way back to the house.
~Finally back at home, we discuss the options of how to get the ID taken care of, as the Army has decided to take different holidays than the USAF and the end of this week is pretty much screwed for errand running.
~Add update to blog...
~Make a late dinner, eat and watch TV. Finally have a discussion about the hurt feelings and misunderstandings, I end up crying, as I so often do after days like this, but at least we got things worked out.

The house is devilishly quiet now, as everyone else has gone to bed. It is 1:00 in the morning. I am still trying to wind down from all that has transpired in the last 19 or so hours. There is nothing on TV, as per usual, so I am playing dumb games on Pogo in an attempt to numb my brain and lull it blissfully silent.
I am glad these kinds of days don't come along too often... I pray I don't have to endure another one until I am fully recovered from my surgery.
After all this, I am proud of me for keeping the majority of my cool. I am still able to smile a little bit, finding a little humor in the events that transpired.
A word of advice- never pray for patience... as God will grant it unto you, then send you a test to make sure you know it's there.