stupid cupid
Posted on 2008-Feb-12 at 10:10
I tried to post this last night but the site went down which fueled my frustration even more, when it rains it pours... when it pours it pours shit all over me. Welcome to my pity party, grab a drink or your drug of choice and settle in for a lovely upbeat post.
I am angry.
Very angry.
I want to blame, but there is nobody and nothing to pin it on.
There is a lot contributing to my angst and I don’t want to feel this way. I want to smote my challenges with brutal force and come out the victor but at this moment I just don’t have anything left with which to fight. I cried myself to sleep last night over it after yelling at my husband over the injustice of it all for two hours (wore myself and him right out).
We’re in a financial mess, way more money going out than is coming in and we’re looking at potential layoffs at his work AGAIN! I could go into the details of the debt but it’s pointless to dwell on it... it's pointless to dwell on all of this but I'm purging. We’re trying to refinance our house, extending our mortgage and borrowing against the equity to lighten some of our monthly burdens. It’s a nasty process and all we’re really doing is robbing from the left hand to pay the right. We know it’s just a bandaid fix but unless that lottery comes through or some rich relative (that we don’t have… or know about) dies and leaves us a boatload of cash we have no choice.
Add to that my husband’s death trap on wheels and the shit gets deeper. He drives a 1989 Dodge Dynasty. We bought the car almost ten years ago, it had less than 100,000 km on it and cost us $5000 so really it doesn’t owe us anything despite all we’ve put into it in repairs over the last few years. It’s falling apart… literally. The wheel wells have more holes than a lace doily due to the rust, the tires are on their last treads, the interior moulding is long gone, the seat belt on the passenger side is fucked, the driver’s side door handle is the only one that works, none of the windows roll down… and if by some miracle you get them open you need a winch to roll them back up again. Most recently and more worrying is the fact that in -20C weather the beast is overheating. Isn’t that fanfuckingtastic?!? The air conditioner (which has not worked since we bought it) finally started working then too...instead of the heat!! He works afternoon shift two weeks a month and has to drive home on an icy highway and I swear I hold my breath from 1 am when he gets off work until 1:30 am when he pulls into the garage. If he’s late I panic. Thankfully we at least have cell phone coverage out here now so if he does run into trouble he can call me, providing he’s not hurt...or dead. Of course my head goes to the most negative of scenarios… it’s how I fret. If by some miracle we can get our monthly expenses down we will need to buy a new (new/used) vehicle which will put us right back into high payments again. It’s an endless cycle… and I want to get off!!!
What put me over the edge yesterday was cabin fever I think. We’ve been buried in snow for almost five months and I’ve had enough. I think I am dying of vitamin D deficiency. Not to mention lack of vitamin fun and vitamin life. We don’t do anything in the winter, there is nothing TO do. We don’t ski, snowboard or sled, I can’t stand to be cold. We can’t afford to travel yet every second client I see is heading somewhere tropical for a week or two or in Trixie’s case THREE! Fucking right I am jealous. I know it’s a bad way to feel but it’s also a lousy way to feel… stuck beneath four feet of frozen water crystals with three months to go before I see sun and greenery. I am forgetting how it feels to have the sun warm my skin, this cold parched weather has my flesh all dried out and swimming an ocean of lotion wouldn’t make me feel like less of a scaly old alligator. This is precisely why I will NEVER complain about the heat of summer.
When the spiral into the pity party begins it takes on a life of its own. With enough tears to raise the Titanic it all came out. I cried because we’re not where we wanted to be at this point in our lives, I cried because we’ve been married twenty years this summer and have never had a honeymoon, I cried because my boy is on the same side of the continent and I can’t go see him, I cried because I am afraid that somewhere along the line we made a bad decision (or six) and we’ll never know where we went wrong or how to fix it, I cried because I want it to be summer and I want to be at the lake, I cried because we can’t afford to build a cabin at the lake, I cried over the range (which stopped working over the weekend again), I cried because we still don’t have all of the window casings and mouldings up in our house, I cried because they can’t figure out what is wrong with my husband and I am convinced he’s going to die, I cried because I need new glasses, I cried over my sore tooth which I am sure needs a root canal, I cried because we always thought we did the best we could with what we had and it got us nowhere and finally I cried because I couldn’t stop crying.
I know I have a lot to be thankful for and I fully intend to be grateful tomorrow (but now that it is tomorrow I find I am not quite there yet, maybe tomorrow will be better). Tonight however I am wallowing. If I were a drinker or an addict I’d be wasted instead of writing. Yes, I know that is unhealthy and I know it gets me nowhere but it is where I am at at this moment. Nobody in my offline life will ever see this side of me. They see the girl who is excited for her friends and family who are taking fantastic vacations, the see the smile, they get cheery, positive ben who never crumbles under adversity. They get cheerleader ben, encouraging them through tough times and sad times and always willing to help carry their burdens.
I don’t blame anyone for not ‘being here’ for whatever is behind this crisis, the people around me don’t know. I am a much better actress than they’d ever give me credit for. And the Academy Award goes to... me! My husband and I split up twice early on in our marriage and I never told anyone until years later and they were shocked, they had no idea. I don’t like people to know my life is imperfect, I don’t like people to know I am imperfect, I don’t want people to see my dirt. Pride goes before the fall.
Only those who read my blog and my poor husband know my dark side and believe me when I tell you that even you don’t see it all. I feel bad for you both but if I didn’t let it out somewhere I could very well find myself heavily medicated in a bin of the loony variety… in fact that is not sounding half bad at the moment.
Is this PMS? Maybe, though I thought that was why I ate the pan of brownies last week. Depression? I don’t think so, my dark place is never that dark. Seasonal Affected Disorder (SAD?) That is possible but it wasn’t until I looked at the date that it started to make sense. It’s February, the longest, coldest, greyest, darkest month of the year for me. If I ruled the world I would cut the month from the calendar, permanently. Fuck leap year, fuck Valentines day (it’s just a Hallmark holiday anyway) and fuck trying to remember how many days are in the stupid month. Fuck February. DING DING DING, I believe we have a winner, finally something to blame and only eighteen days until it’s over… or is it seventeen days this year?
Maybe I need to take up a hobby, something soothing and cathartic like scrap booking, knitting or hatchet throwing.
I am angry.
Very angry.
I want to blame, but there is nobody and nothing to pin it on.
There is a lot contributing to my angst and I don’t want to feel this way. I want to smote my challenges with brutal force and come out the victor but at this moment I just don’t have anything left with which to fight. I cried myself to sleep last night over it after yelling at my husband over the injustice of it all for two hours (wore myself and him right out).
We’re in a financial mess, way more money going out than is coming in and we’re looking at potential layoffs at his work AGAIN! I could go into the details of the debt but it’s pointless to dwell on it... it's pointless to dwell on all of this but I'm purging. We’re trying to refinance our house, extending our mortgage and borrowing against the equity to lighten some of our monthly burdens. It’s a nasty process and all we’re really doing is robbing from the left hand to pay the right. We know it’s just a bandaid fix but unless that lottery comes through or some rich relative (that we don’t have… or know about) dies and leaves us a boatload of cash we have no choice.
Add to that my husband’s death trap on wheels and the shit gets deeper. He drives a 1989 Dodge Dynasty. We bought the car almost ten years ago, it had less than 100,000 km on it and cost us $5000 so really it doesn’t owe us anything despite all we’ve put into it in repairs over the last few years. It’s falling apart… literally. The wheel wells have more holes than a lace doily due to the rust, the tires are on their last treads, the interior moulding is long gone, the seat belt on the passenger side is fucked, the driver’s side door handle is the only one that works, none of the windows roll down… and if by some miracle you get them open you need a winch to roll them back up again. Most recently and more worrying is the fact that in -20C weather the beast is overheating. Isn’t that fanfuckingtastic?!? The air conditioner (which has not worked since we bought it) finally started working then too...instead of the heat!! He works afternoon shift two weeks a month and has to drive home on an icy highway and I swear I hold my breath from 1 am when he gets off work until 1:30 am when he pulls into the garage. If he’s late I panic. Thankfully we at least have cell phone coverage out here now so if he does run into trouble he can call me, providing he’s not hurt...or dead. Of course my head goes to the most negative of scenarios… it’s how I fret. If by some miracle we can get our monthly expenses down we will need to buy a new (new/used) vehicle which will put us right back into high payments again. It’s an endless cycle… and I want to get off!!!
What put me over the edge yesterday was cabin fever I think. We’ve been buried in snow for almost five months and I’ve had enough. I think I am dying of vitamin D deficiency. Not to mention lack of vitamin fun and vitamin life. We don’t do anything in the winter, there is nothing TO do. We don’t ski, snowboard or sled, I can’t stand to be cold. We can’t afford to travel yet every second client I see is heading somewhere tropical for a week or two or in Trixie’s case THREE! Fucking right I am jealous. I know it’s a bad way to feel but it’s also a lousy way to feel… stuck beneath four feet of frozen water crystals with three months to go before I see sun and greenery. I am forgetting how it feels to have the sun warm my skin, this cold parched weather has my flesh all dried out and swimming an ocean of lotion wouldn’t make me feel like less of a scaly old alligator. This is precisely why I will NEVER complain about the heat of summer.
When the spiral into the pity party begins it takes on a life of its own. With enough tears to raise the Titanic it all came out. I cried because we’re not where we wanted to be at this point in our lives, I cried because we’ve been married twenty years this summer and have never had a honeymoon, I cried because my boy is on the same side of the continent and I can’t go see him, I cried because I am afraid that somewhere along the line we made a bad decision (or six) and we’ll never know where we went wrong or how to fix it, I cried because I want it to be summer and I want to be at the lake, I cried because we can’t afford to build a cabin at the lake, I cried over the range (which stopped working over the weekend again), I cried because we still don’t have all of the window casings and mouldings up in our house, I cried because they can’t figure out what is wrong with my husband and I am convinced he’s going to die, I cried because I need new glasses, I cried over my sore tooth which I am sure needs a root canal, I cried because we always thought we did the best we could with what we had and it got us nowhere and finally I cried because I couldn’t stop crying.
I know I have a lot to be thankful for and I fully intend to be grateful tomorrow (but now that it is tomorrow I find I am not quite there yet, maybe tomorrow will be better). Tonight however I am wallowing. If I were a drinker or an addict I’d be wasted instead of writing. Yes, I know that is unhealthy and I know it gets me nowhere but it is where I am at at this moment. Nobody in my offline life will ever see this side of me. They see the girl who is excited for her friends and family who are taking fantastic vacations, the see the smile, they get cheery, positive ben who never crumbles under adversity. They get cheerleader ben, encouraging them through tough times and sad times and always willing to help carry their burdens.
I don’t blame anyone for not ‘being here’ for whatever is behind this crisis, the people around me don’t know. I am a much better actress than they’d ever give me credit for. And the Academy Award goes to... me! My husband and I split up twice early on in our marriage and I never told anyone until years later and they were shocked, they had no idea. I don’t like people to know my life is imperfect, I don’t like people to know I am imperfect, I don’t want people to see my dirt. Pride goes before the fall.
Only those who read my blog and my poor husband know my dark side and believe me when I tell you that even you don’t see it all. I feel bad for you both but if I didn’t let it out somewhere I could very well find myself heavily medicated in a bin of the loony variety… in fact that is not sounding half bad at the moment.
Is this PMS? Maybe, though I thought that was why I ate the pan of brownies last week. Depression? I don’t think so, my dark place is never that dark. Seasonal Affected Disorder (SAD?) That is possible but it wasn’t until I looked at the date that it started to make sense. It’s February, the longest, coldest, greyest, darkest month of the year for me. If I ruled the world I would cut the month from the calendar, permanently. Fuck leap year, fuck Valentines day (it’s just a Hallmark holiday anyway) and fuck trying to remember how many days are in the stupid month. Fuck February. DING DING DING, I believe we have a winner, finally something to blame and only eighteen days until it’s over… or is it seventeen days this year?
Maybe I need to take up a hobby, something soothing and cathartic like scrap booking, knitting or hatchet throwing.
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