Misery does SO love company

...yes, I am apparently that petty.

Instead of doing what I should be [a tedious case study of a fictitious dental practice], I paused for a moment between marketing P's to google a mil-blogger [who I still haven't found]. In my brief search, I stumbled upon MilSpouse.com and while I've only just scanned the first post, I am ELATED to have just feasted my sleepy eyes on her words!

An excerpt:

The bad thing is I am taking it out on my husband and it’s not his fault. And I know that if I’m doing this, I know that there are other spouses out there in the blogosphere who have felt and acted the same way as I am – which is like a spoiled three year-old having a tantrum when the parent says “no you can’t have that toy.” I really want to jump up and down screaming until my face turns red and steam comes out of my ears. But that behaviour is not cool coming from a thirty-five year-old woman. Which means I have to act like an adult even though I really, really want to throw that freaking tantrum.

While I try so very deliberately to channel any anger/frustration I ever feel toward The Army, the Universe, myself [on occasion], any body of mass or sheer notion - anything other than The Staff Sergeant - I do fail on occasion. But the tantrums...I'm tickled at the parallel! I'm certainly not celebrating her fitful desire to hurl herself into early childhood, nor am I glorifying my own temptation to revisit the terrible-two's. But oh!, to taste the flavor of normalcy!