This is no secret.
These things affect me in different ways at different times. Most of the time it pops up in the form of being 45 minutes early to an appointment. Or obsessing over which outfit to wear to dinner.
Or being especially grumpy when I order a hot dog when what I really want is a gyro. (Why did I order the hot dog? Because the line for the gyro was way too long and it's hot outside and I wasn't given ample time to sort through the options and I had to make a decision and it's so loud and crowded I can't hear myself think and so I'll order a damn hot dog because I don't want to explain that I don't want onions and peppers to the guy who looks like he doesn't speak English and goodgodwhydoesthishavetobesohard).
See?
But sometimes it can be really bad. (Have I mentioned the postpartum depression? I have? Okay, let's continue...)
Today was bad.
It began when I ran out of time to make coffee. But I need coffee and so I secretly want MG to read my mind and offer to stop by Starbucks and get me a coffee. But he doesn't read my mind. So I don't get my coffee. And so I sit in the car on the way to work with a big frown on my face. Not a big deal - but my grumpy mood is further complicated by issues at my place of employment. I have a day full of appointments and no time to sit at my desk and make progress on my summer goals. Add this to the fact that I am having a lunch guest (AND the fact that I've just learned from my parents that they are staying the night with me next week on the way to the B&B they are visiting for their anniversary SO now I need to ask for time off to accommodate them). Having a lunch guest on top of asking for an extra two hours off on top of having little progress to report on summer goals on top of I don't do anything right anyway leads to my leaving work feeling like a failure.
Things don't improve when I arrive at daycare where I can hear Picklebug screaming down the hall. Thank you new daycare worker for holding my baby like pile of firewood. And thanks for making sure he got that extra nap this afternoon. Ugh.
At home we realize we have no groceries. MG asks if I can cover a trip to the store. Um. Sure. If all we need is Ramen noodles and Puff-i-Oh's (sorry, Cheerios are too expensive). But I'm starving! Can't we eat first? So we head to Taco Bell where I have to make loud farm animal noises through bites of my $.99 Baja Fish Taco to keep Picklebug happy. It was really baaaaaad....
By the time Picklebug is in bed, I'm beat down.
These things affect me in different ways at different times. Most of the time it pops up in the form of being 45 minutes early to an appointment. Or obsessing over which outfit to wear to dinner.
Or being especially grumpy when I order a hot dog when what I really want is a gyro. (Why did I order the hot dog? Because the line for the gyro was way too long and it's hot outside and I wasn't given ample time to sort through the options and I had to make a decision and it's so loud and crowded I can't hear myself think and so I'll order a damn hot dog because I don't want to explain that I don't want onions and peppers to the guy who looks like he doesn't speak English and goodgodwhydoesthishavetobesohard).
See?
But sometimes it can be really bad. (Have I mentioned the postpartum depression? I have? Okay, let's continue...)
Today was bad.
It began when I ran out of time to make coffee. But I need coffee and so I secretly want MG to read my mind and offer to stop by Starbucks and get me a coffee. But he doesn't read my mind. So I don't get my coffee. And so I sit in the car on the way to work with a big frown on my face. Not a big deal - but my grumpy mood is further complicated by issues at my place of employment. I have a day full of appointments and no time to sit at my desk and make progress on my summer goals. Add this to the fact that I am having a lunch guest (AND the fact that I've just learned from my parents that they are staying the night with me next week on the way to the B&B they are visiting for their anniversary SO now I need to ask for time off to accommodate them). Having a lunch guest on top of asking for an extra two hours off on top of having little progress to report on summer goals on top of I don't do anything right anyway leads to my leaving work feeling like a failure.
Things don't improve when I arrive at daycare where I can hear Picklebug screaming down the hall. Thank you new daycare worker for holding my baby like pile of firewood. And thanks for making sure he got that extra nap this afternoon. Ugh.
At home we realize we have no groceries. MG asks if I can cover a trip to the store. Um. Sure. If all we need is Ramen noodles and Puff-i-Oh's (sorry, Cheerios are too expensive). But I'm starving! Can't we eat first? So we head to Taco Bell where I have to make loud farm animal noises through bites of my $.99 Baja Fish Taco to keep Picklebug happy. It was really baaaaaad....
By the time Picklebug is in bed, I'm beat down.
I feel like all I've done today is survived.
And I'm craving mozzarella sticks.
And I'm craving mozzarella sticks.
Because I'm just not fat enough.
I ask MG if we picked up any mozzarella sticks at the grocery store.
Nope.
Chips? No. Pretzels? Popcorn? Rice Cakes? ANYTHING THAT CAN BE REMOTELY CONSIDERED A SALTY SNACK?
He reports from the pantry that I can choose between stale saltines and Uncle Ben's steam-able Rice-in-a-Bag.
I begin crying. He offers to go get me some mozzarella sticks several times but I refuse. Food is not the answer.
The weight of the day is too much. I cannot shake my doom & gloom attitude. I end up in his arms on the couch trying to make sense of it all. Of my job. Of my role as a mother. Of my role as a wife. Why is it so hard? Why do I let the little things bother me? Why do I take things so personally? Why can't I be happy like everyone else seems to be? What can I do to make it better?
I need desperately to put it all into perspective.
What, I ask MG, would he do if I only had one hour left to live?
He looks into my eyes and sweetly tells me he would go wake our sleeping baby and hold the two of us in his arms.
But, if I only had an hour left, what I would really want are some mozzarella sticks.
So here I sit. Pathetic. Blogging about my bad day when I should be telling you about all the blessings in my life.
And this extra fizzy,
I ask MG if we picked up any mozzarella sticks at the grocery store.
Nope.
Chips? No. Pretzels? Popcorn? Rice Cakes? ANYTHING THAT CAN BE REMOTELY CONSIDERED A SALTY SNACK?
He reports from the pantry that I can choose between stale saltines and Uncle Ben's steam-able Rice-in-a-Bag.
I begin crying. He offers to go get me some mozzarella sticks several times but I refuse. Food is not the answer.
The weight of the day is too much. I cannot shake my doom & gloom attitude. I end up in his arms on the couch trying to make sense of it all. Of my job. Of my role as a mother. Of my role as a wife. Why is it so hard? Why do I let the little things bother me? Why do I take things so personally? Why can't I be happy like everyone else seems to be? What can I do to make it better?
I need desperately to put it all into perspective.
What, I ask MG, would he do if I only had one hour left to live?
He looks into my eyes and sweetly tells me he would go wake our sleeping baby and hold the two of us in his arms.
But, if I only had an hour left, what I would really want are some mozzarella sticks.
And maybe a Cherry Coke.
So here I sit. Pathetic. Blogging about my bad day when I should be telling you about all the blessings in my life.
Like these delicious mozzarella sticks.
And this extra fizzy,
extra fine,
Cherry Coke.
I love you! Like so incredible much! I am coming to visit on Friday, as I told you earlier. I have some things I want to share with you!!!
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