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I’ve cried at least once every day this week. At work. I almost made it to the end of the day today, and it hit about 4:15. Just a few tears each time, but still… Finally, tonight, I had the big cry I needed. The clogged sinuses, runny nose, weird breathing, puffy face, red eyes big ass cry. And, no, I am NOT a pretty crier.
I felt pretty good afterwards, except for the slight headache and sinus issue. Then I cried a little bit more a few minutes ago. Kind of like when you’re sick, then you throw up and you feel pretty good like you might be getting better, and then your stomach gets urky again and you think, nope, not over it yet. Like that. Guess I didn’t get it all out the first time.
I cry and I think, I can’t do this anymore. I don’t even know what “this” is, but that is what I think. And then I get a little scared that I will start to believe that thought, that I can’t do it anymore, and then I really won’t be able to do it anymore. And then I tell myself, whatever – Get over yourself, and get out of your own way. Life is short and I have things to do. I just don’t know what they are yet.
To be full from dinner and still have room for an ice cream treat.
To take a mental-health day if necessary.
To watch a real cry-fest movie like Beaches or PS I Love You because you’re sick of weeping at every little thing and you just need to get it out already.
To prefer eating at home to going out because, damn, you’re a good cook.
To turn down facebook requests from people you went to high school with but never talked to. You don’t have to be friends with everyone.
To really like your husband’s mother.
To still prefer your own mother.
That you only drink coffee that doesn’t look or taste like coffe.
Work is incredibly draining right now. The days are LONG, the morale is low, and it’s hard to find a direction other than reverse. My head hurts every day, my shoulders are inching ever-closer to my ears, and I watch the clock longing for 5pm. That, to me, is more exhausting than a day of good, physical labor.
E and I discovered today that our fireplaces DO work. Now we need wood. I’m sure we’ll buy some to get started, but my family has some wooded land where we might be able to gather our own wood.
When I was little, my family had a wood stove to help heat our house. Most winters, my dad would have some time off from work, so we would spend time cutting wood. Ok, my dad and Grampa would cut the wood, and my brothers and I hauled the wood. We would get up on a Saturday morning – I’m pretty sure Saturday morning cartoon time would be cut short – get dressed in our winter gear and head out with my dad and his chainsaw. We pretty much just stood out of the way while he cut the trees down and into pieces. We must have loaded the wood on one of Grampa’s wagons to get it to the house, but I don’t remember. Grampa would bring the wood splitter over and we sometimes got to take turns operating it which made us feel pretty cool. We piled the small pieces in long rows. The larger pieces went into a pile for my dad to split with the ax. Once cut smaller, we would stack the wood into the rows, making sure it was stacked tight, and facing so that it could age properly. One of our after-school chores was bringing in wood for the stove.
I mostly remember how much I enjoyed hanging out with the guys – my brothers were alright, and my dad and Grampa…two of the coolest guys ever. We usually went out on a sunny day, so the sky would be a bright winter blue. I know we stayed pretty warm stacking the wood, but occasionally we would get cold and wet, the snow clinging to our mittens. We’d go in to dry out and warm up. We probably had warm tomato soup and hot grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. I’m sure we were tired by the end of the day, but not the kind of tired that comes from sitting in front of a computer all day. It was the kind of tired that comes from a good day. A productive day. A day where the fruit of your labor was visible in a cord of wood stacked in the yard. I miss that feeling.
It’s 5:00 a.m. and I am baking brownies. I have been up since 4:30 and awake since 3:something – couldn’t sleep. The brownies are for an event tomorrow. I made some last night, and I put Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups in them. There is a salmonella-from-peanut-butter-scare going on right now. I do not want to get a bunch of people sick. I threw them away, and I am fine with that. I’ve been eating crap food this week – that stuff people claim is “comfort food”. Work is stressful, and I am emotional and hormonal. As much as I like to believe that Oreos are the answer to life’s problems, they are NOT. Every non-healthy thing I’ve eaten this week makes me feel like crap (not to mention FAT) and the mood swings are horrible. I have treated my husband in a way he does not deserve. I’ve cried. I’ve just been a general pain in the ass. I hate it. I’m tired of complaining about things and then feeling guilty for complaining. I’m tired of things being sucky. And I’m tired of my jackass attitude. So, after the brownies are done, I’m going to the gym, and then to work. I am looking forward to dinner with friends tonight, and happy about the week being nearly over.
William Henry Harrison gave the longest inaugural address – nearly two hours, in the snow, and didn’t wear a coat. He came down with pneumonia and died a month later. You have FOUR YEARS to address the American public as often as you want, and you choose to talk TWO HOURS in a snow storm? Ha! If only all justice were served so quickly.
