life ate me
to paraphrase my friend, mr. tiny, life is eating me. on the Cranky Scale of 1 - 10, i’m at a 9 and climbing. and it’s a damn sucky time of year to be eaten, thankyouverymuch…
so.
i think i am perimenopausal. maybe it’s because my birthday is in a few days and, for the first time in years, i think the age-thing is bothering me. feh. maybe it’s just because i’m in a shitty mood, who knows. it’s one of those ‘chicken or the egg’ kinda moments.
i’m at that place in my training, at work, where i know how to do the work but not exactly what it means or how to apply the results. in other words — I. FEEL. STUPID. i don’t like that.
my body is psychologically, mentally and physically resisting this 8a-5p crap. still. i am just SO the graveyard rat. and the loooong drive in and back home? it’s getting to me WAY more than i ever thought possible.
i’m distracted, dejected and depressed. even the normal holiday things that i do, that usually put me in the spirit, are not picking me up.
my dog poops and digs and acts like a puppy. SURPRISE!
my kids act like teenagers. no surprise. but very draining.
i’m suffering from writers block and brain farts and sometimers.
and i know it will all pass. i know this. i also know that i have lots of stuff to be grateful for. i don’t even have to look very hard for them. they’re just lost in the murk, somewhere, out there… phuck…
okay. this has been a big ol’ bag of whine. i don’t like whine. and i’m just getting started… ugh. let’s stop now. ’cause seeing all this crap in print is just not helping.
over and out.
almost …
at least the ‘re-fi from hell’ has been downgraded to the ‘re-fi from some hot, muggy state, like georgia’…
At least getting it out might eventually make you feel better. And maybe the kids will surprise you with the combination Christmas/Birthday present of never doing anything wrong or anything that gets ya riled up ever again (but I wouldn’t count on it).
Well, just you wait. There’s bound to be a lovely upswing when the low part of the cycle is done, right? Right/
I don’t know if I have ever delurked and made a comment on your site but I don’t think so, so here goes.
Keep your spirits up, I really like your blog and I like your posts at raising hell. Take care of yourself. I hope you feel better soon.
I wrote “bite me” in the dust on the toilet paper holder at work today in your honor.
i feel for you. sometimes i think i’m perimenopausal, too. *sigh* the things us woman endure!
When life eats you, Ratty, eat it back.
Sometimes I feel like the bug in the toilet, spinning around and around and around until I finally disappear to the bleak dark fate that is the sewer.
And sometimes all it takes is one day of handing over the reins to someone else. Punching the clock and relaxing. Getting out and away. Allowing yourself to punctuate that run-on sentence of shit. Maybe not with a period, but at least a comma. Maybe a semicolon if you’re feeling saucy.
The main response that I hear when I suggest that is that ‘Everything depends on me’. No, it really doesn’t. And if it does, make it clear they’d better carry some of that weight for a while. You deserve nothing less. Every cranky, premenopausal, mommy-of-teens, snarky, bitchy little inch of you.
We love ya!