Sometimes All It Takes Is Good Soul Douching

The great thing about heartache or turmoil for me is that inevitably a few days after the initial “shock”, I get a crazy urge to tackle stuff (hence, my tiling project 3 months ago, painting the hallway 2 months ago, etc.). And as I sit here and type this post, I am reaping the rewards of this weird healing cycle.

Yesterday morning I decided to get medieval on my garage, workroom, and storage room, as well as the storage space under my deck. Woo hoo! It was a spur of the moment thing and lasted about 8 hours. Not only are these areas orderly and delightfully clean, but my mind is feeling clearer as well. It was a very productive distraction.

Maybe my urge to purge around my house is a symbolic act of cleaning up and letting go in my brain. That while de-junking one area in my life, it sort of gives my mind and heart a good scrub down.

Needless to say, I’m feeling pretty good. And despite the erratic texts I continue to receive, along with a little self doubt, it’s clear to me that I will get past this… Hell, I’m already getting past it.

Scratch That… Now I Just Feel Like Ass

Breaking up is hard to, haaard to do.

Yeah, well, despite it being the best thing. Wise. Pure effing genius, it hasn’t stopped this feeling, something like being bitch slapped by a shit filled burrito, from creeping over me.

Waaaaa! Somebody make it stop.

Alrighty Then

If I didn’t actually know a bit about bi-polar disorder, I might believe that I am. Not so much cuz I’m manic then depressed, but just because my head and emotions are all over the place.

First on the docket, my lovely love life. For some time now, I’ve been searching, dating, hitting my head against my desk, loving, losing, and continuing the cycle. I believed I had found what I was looking for. Not the mythical “ONE”… I happen not to believe in that sort of dribble. But a good enough one. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but the yummy warm squishy times started being edged out by a feeling of unease. Needless to say, I think that there is something to be said about my instincts, and unfortunately, I had to act. Shit.

Second. Related to #1, I have a weird sad feeling mixed with relief. Sad at the thought of losing someone who has become one of my best friends. Sad because I’ve invested so much and will have nothing (good) to show for it. Sad because in spite of everything, I really do love him. Down because my schedule will become frighteningly open. Annoyed at the thought of starting this stupid process all over again. And depressed (and slightly relieved) at the realization that I think I’m done with this process. I just feel done.

ON the flip side, I feel like a weight is on the verge of lifting. I’m feeling excited to have some actual free time… that not every “childless” night will be occupied by one person. Excited to be able to spend some much needed time with friends. Relieved to be able to spend time at my house. I’ve truly been homesick that past month. I’ve spent so much time with the sig. other that I’ve let my yard go, neglected my cats and dog, as well as my home. Hopefully I won’t be so tired now that I’ll be spending every evenings in my own bed. Mmmm… my bed. Relieved that I won’t have to shave every damn day.

Third on the list: I know I’ve bitched about medical bills and insurance companies, but I’m feeling pretty grateful today. Yes, I still hate my kids FORMER insurance company (and are showing them my love my suing them 🙂 ). But Medicaid and some financial assistance came through, and a HUGE FUCKING load, weighing about $28,000, has been lifted off of my tired back. As screwed up as it all is, I love this country.

So there you have it kids… A small peek into my psychotic mind. It’s a horrible day. It’s also a good day. It’s just another day in the life of Megatropolis.

Wasn’t There Something Good Like A Train Wreck or Hurricane?

What does it say about our media when one of the “breaking stories” is about Obama’s cold.

According to Inside Edition, “He was coughing. He was sneezing”.

STOP THE FUCKING PRESSES! Obama is ill?!? He has a trifling cold? How could I have made it through the day not knowing about the booger content of a presidential candidate? Because people, this is news. BREAKING NEWS!

What a saint. With itchy throat, boogery nose, and sneeziness, he got out of bed and got to “work”. Well kids, I’m convinced. If he can hit the campaign trail with a cold, he’s got my vote. Although if I hear about McCain’s ability to sit through a meeting while suffering from hemorrhoids, it might be easy for sway me.

Tomorrow I hope to hear all about McCain’s ingrown hair. Or at the very least the beaver sunburn Jennifer Aniston got after sunbathing nude in the Caribbean.

And The Award Goes To…

How boring and mundane my life would be without the never ending list of douche bags out there in this world. Captain Douche, thank you for this, and thanks for being you, in all of your douche baggery. Don’t ever change.

I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough, and Dog Gone It…

Perspective is a funny thing. Sometimes it comes in the form of a bitch slap from the All Mighty, other times it just sneaks up on you.

I was sick this past week. And as feeling like shit often does, it kind of rubbed off on the rest of me. I remember when I had surgery a few years ago, and how the pain made everything in my life feel much more worse than it actually was. So even though life is relatively good, I haven’t been feeling it as of late.

ANYWAY, my migraine followed by my sore throat and overall YUCK feeling made me a little depressed. Today I couldn’t keep still mentally or physically. My mind and my body were sort of pacing, hoping that somewhere along the destination-less path that I might happen across something that would make me declare “ah ha!”.

It didn’t really happen that way, but I’m feeling a little better. A call from a delightful friend who has become a surprisingly important person in my life helped with a much needed attitude adjustment. My “problems” aren’t really problems so much as they are inconveniences. And damn it, I’ve been told by a very reliable source that in spite of myself, I’m lovable. How can you dispute genius!

Wouldn’t it be funny if I actually had nothing to bitch about and was completely content? I’m sure that I could come up with something to complain about. But in the meantime, and even though sunshine STILL isn’t shooting out of my ass, I’m pretty lucky. Thanks.

The Olympics Hate Me

I’m exhausted.

Is it because I’ve had trouble sleeping due to all of the stresses of life? No.

Am I up late because I’m training a helper monkey? Negative.

Is it because I’ve been getting pounded so long and hard ALL NIGHT LONG that it keeps me up into the wee hours of the morn? Unfortunately, no.

It’s these damn Olympics! And despite what you might think, the Olympics act more like a sleeping aid than an aphrodisiac for single men in their 30’s.

The listed t.v. schedule tricks you by allowing you to think that the games will be over at 11 PM, but they never are. Two nights ago my poor body gave in sometime after midnight. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn’t. The viewing work I’d done that night was all for naught, and I didn’t even get to see the end of the the stupid men’s individual gymnastics competition. I don’t even know who came in second or third! I’m just grateful that swimming seems to come on earlier in the night.

By the grace of almighty Zeus, last night I was able to stay awake long enough to see what’s her name USA Nastia Somehingorother pink leotard girl and the other USA midget-ish red leotard girl (S. Johnson?) take first and second in the women’s individual round, which was AWESOME. But this morning, I am left puffy eyed and grumpy, and seriously sleep deprived.

This is not, of course, any fault of my own. How can I be expected to not watch when there is so much spandex, Phelps record breaking, and copious amounts of eye glitter by the Chinese!? Impossible I tell you! I am drawn to all the sweat, rhinestones, and drama. I have even gotten teary when I see athletes get choked up. Lame.

So I’ll continue to be the Olympics bitch, and you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little grumpy today.

Tuesday Shmoosday

Yesterday was my enemy.

I spent the good part of the morning cleaning, which wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, I somewhat enjoy cleaning, and really like the feeling of a clean house. So the day started off in a good direction.

And after a great Monday on the relationship front, I expected Tuesday to offer more of the same. Alas, it was not to be. There was drama and some turmoil… not about romance per say, but in my significant other’s life, which unfortunately actually effects the rest of his life, and therefore me. Which is LAME!

That emotional retard-a-coaster lead into a horrible migraine, which left my curled up in the fetal position and praying for death.

There is nothing like a night filled with brain scorching pain in addition to some anxiety about my love life. Oh yes, and there is the ever present stress from over $25K in medical bills that is my constant companion.

I woke up feeling pretty shitty this morning, but everything has seemed to sort of iron itself out. I’m feeling pretty calm about things, and only have a very residual headache.

Who knows will happen tomorrow, but I’m just glad I made it through the past 30 hours alive.

A Few Days Away

Somewhat spur of the moment, I decided to grace my family with my and my children’s presence in St. George. I wasn’t overly excited about going. These trips often seem like more work than they are worth. But I thought a little time away might be good.

As far as vacations go, it was a success. Of course my kids were sick, which seem like a requirement when getting together with my nieces and nephews. But they had a great time playing with their cousins and spending countless hours swimming.

For me, this excursion to the south was pretty relaxing. I did a whole lot a nothing, which went according to plans.

Enjoy this picture of the toad I caught, as well as one of the lovely sunsets.

Oh, I’m All That AND A Bag Of Raisins

I’ve been in a weird “place” the last few days. It’s OK… I’m still safe to handle sharp objects and can deal with the open flame on my stove. I’ve just felt, well, off.

Me being in a weird place isn’t all that rare. I mean I’m pretty damn weird, aka, charming. But I just can’t help looking at my life and wondering where the time has all gone, where in the hell it’s going, and what I’m supposed to do in the meantime to not screw it all up (even more than I already have).

I’ll forgo all of garbage that is seeping in and out of my brain, because I’m somewhat kind and don’t want to put you through the pain and torment of reading about my lame assness. And there is SO much I’ve been thinking about that I don’t think I could write it in any way that wouldn’t be a novel. But one of the subjects that has my noggin-a-whirlin’ is about my family.

I love my kids. There is no question about that. But I feel like I’m not being the kind of mom that I should be, or the kind of mom that I want to be. Sure, I take care of them, but (please, grab the nearest trash can in case this next statements causes you to involuntarily vomit) I wish I was more like the moms that live their lives for their kids. The kind of mom who’s entire life is centered around her children and their activities. The kind of mom who’s life is entirely intertwined with her family’s.

That’s how it used to be. It was easier for me to do when I was married, because my family WAS the majority of my social life. I’m not saying that I didn’t have friends and didn’t go out, but my husband was my best friend, and my life was stable and somewhat predictable. But now I’m single, and I’m expected to actually make an effort to have a social life. A social life that exists outside of my family. Yeah, it’s pretty f’ing lame.

I miss knowing that my weekend will pretty much consist of hanging with the hubby and kids, watching a few dvd’s, or maybe even going out if a grandparent is available to babysit.

What I miss even more is having a cute little complete family. I read my sister’s blog tonight, and it made me ache for the days of “old”… the days before I became single again. Notice that I didn’t say that I missed my ex, I just miss the idea of it all. I know that I should be enjoying this time in my life where I have freedom (within reason. I still have 3 kids for hells sake) to come and go as I please. To answer to no one. I should be living it up.

And yes, it was great for awhile, but it’s getting old. And frankly, I’m burned out.

I’m happy for my sister. I know her life isn’t perfect, but I think that she is content. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I’m jealous. Not in a “I hate you” sort of way. I just wish I had what my sister has. What I thought I used to have. Cuz this other shit, well, it blows.

Maybe a slight over dramatization of things. In all honestly, my life isn’t too shabby. It could definitely get worse. I have a great family, awesome friends, and really nice calves. What am I complaining about!