You would think the beautiful weather would be putting me in a good mood, but no. I'm pretty sure it's just PMS or some other hormonal fluctuation that's making me feel like punching someone, and I don't intend to actually do it, but I am feeling ridiculously irritable. I made what I thought was going to be a very modest list of goals and things that need to be done or that I would like to get done this week. That's always a mistake. I get depressed looking at it. And it doesn't even take into consideration the things I already did today before I made the list (i.e. two phones calls that needed to be made plus a bonus one that one of the others engendered, dropping my clothes off at the dry cleaners this morning--I forgot to put picking them up on the list, so I guess that'll be item #25, ordering a couple things online that needed to be done...)
My dad has been whining that there's nothing to eat in the house. Let me use the ol' universal translator: "There's nothing I want to eat in the house. And you didn't cook any big dinners from scratch last week, so I feel justified in whining, because dinner doesn't count unless you slaved over it." He's also been whining that I haven't done his bank deposit yet. Of course, he only asks me to do it when I'm not going anywhere near the bank. It's my fault for not remembering when I am going by the bank. Because I have nothing else to think about. And if I were to make a special trip to the bank after work and thus get home later than usual and thus not cook a big meal from scratch, well, you know where that goes.
The outside of the house looks like crap. There's a little hole in the driveway that needs to be fixed. There's a portion of the brick built-in planter that was cracked and now, after having snow piled on it this winter, has fallen over so also needs to be fixed. I don't know what I am going to do about my sad front lawn. I don't know what I am going to do about that tree of the city's that needs trimming, which obviously they aren't intending to do. All of this is money and work and I fucking hate it.
I can't stop eating. Specifically, I can't stop eating crap. I haven't exercised, except for a few long walks, since I strained my lat on the right side doing yoga almost a month ago. My lat is fine now, but I've gotten back out of the habit. Why can I not just have the discipline to do the stuff I know is good for me? "Exercise three times this week" is on the goddamn list. Will giving myself checkmarks like a second-grader motivate me? Behavioral psychology 10-fucking-1.
I could keep going, but that's probably enough for now. But you see how irritable I am? Sigh.
How you doin'?
xoxo
6 comments:
Wow, that's quite an unburdening you've done here.
First let me say that bank deposits by mail are a beautiful thing. Get some envelopes from the bank next time you're there. Then tell Dad "yes" whenever he asks. I did it for years until I moved across the street from one. Like I said--beautiful thing.
As for the list of undone home ownership crap, well, until you're in that stylin' condo that's in your future, you'll just have to be satisfied with "forward progress", and not sweat the rest of the stuff. The eating of crap, well, maybe that's a bit tougher. I find the right time to exercise self-control is right there in the supermarket where the problems all begin. (The pastrami at Dharma Buns can't be helped under any strategy, so I don't try). If I stock fresh fruit and that's all I have for snacks, then that's what I'll eat.
The symptoms (irritability, inactivity, bad diet) all point to depression, and you know my prescriptions: ukuleles, convertibles, and sex.
You know what would make me feel better, Mr Barma? USE YOUR IMAGINATION. ahahaha
Also, you should probably keep your fries away from me the next time we go to Dharma Buns.
Seriously, though, (not that the above wasn't totally sincere), writing out my little rant, *which I didn't even tag*, was therapeutic :-) Too bad for y'all that had to read it. But yeah, I am pretty sure the insane irritabilty and the massive carb cravings are just hormonal. War with the Uterus, FTW.
Oh! And I cannot have *no* crap in the house, because then the old man *really* accuses me of trying to starve him. But I bought myself some nice wasabi peas and kalamata olives at Whole Foods last night so that I would stay out of his chocolate-covered pretzels. We'll see how well that works.
I can just imagine how those peas and olives would go over: can you say "whine squared?"
And you can come over to my house and look at the variety of damaged kitchen and bathroom tiles. OF COURSE those styles are now obsolete, so that means re-doing two whole floors!
Oh sorry...thought it was a game of "can you top this?" ;)
hahaha
No, please, feel free to indulge in stories of your own personal money pit. Misery loves company n' all.
Chocolate covered pretzels are evil. LOL Im working in a CPA's office through tax season and someone brought a thing of them...I ate my share...and my friends share. It was sad. LOL
Hugs to you...hope the funk lifts for you soon. I think the convertibles and sex would definitely help. Dunno about the ukulele ;-)
And, Mr Bill says the best thing to break a funk is to move (I asked him for advice a couple months back when in one of my own). Do things that make you sweat, do some inversions (Down Dog, Bridge, handstand -haha) turn your self upside down. :-) Also, laugh, dance...move. Put on your Jay-Z and dance . Meatloaf's "Bat Out of Hell" works too :-)
Take one home project at a time, thats all you can do.
Another hug to you. Hang in there :-)
Chocolate covered pretzels are the perfect PMS food! They're salty + crunchy + *covered in chocolate*. A woman of childbearing age had to have invented them is all I'm sayin.
I'm marginally less cranky today. I'm hoping the hormonal tide has turned :-)
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