Just to clarify, this is not going to be one of those "I'm so mad I'm going to trash talk everybody" types of blogs. Feelings will be spared, and no names will be mentioned. Why? Because 1) I'm too classy to do that and 2) I'm not really mad at anyone in particular.
I'm tired. I'm grumpy. It's been a tough week. The universe has been working against me, from the menial things (realizing right before serving supper that I bought a bad package of hamburger buns) to the downright frustrating major issues (dredging up old issues from many years ago). For some reason, my patience has just been super thin. Hurgh. I also haven't been sleeping worth a crap either, but that could be because Josh doesn't get home from work until around 4:30-ish in the morning, and I've turned my days and nights around. This habit MUST be eradicated before August 20th, as I will be getting up early to get ready for classes. Granted, my classes don't start until 8am and 9am, but I still have to leave an hour early, as I have a nice little 40 mile drive ahead of me before said classes start.
I'm mostly mad at myself for being so damn preoccupied. My mind tends to wander into territories I've been trying to keep off-limits for a long time, which makes me sad/mad/frustrated/conflicted/aggravated/annoyed and any other negative feelings I missed in that list, so I stick my nose in a Sudoku book and solve them. I listen to a lot of rap (songs that make me want to shake my butt tend to perk me up a little bit, even though that is NOT my normal go-to genre). I spend hours upon hours playing games on Facebook nonstop. I tend to forget that I have other outlets: piano collecting dust, a book sitting on my end table with one read chapter, and a neglected journal sitting in my bedroom. I forget I have responsibilities: dishes that need to be done, a dog that needs to be walked and also needs training work, laundry to do, and other housewifely duties. Then the next thing I know, I look at the clock after hours of very little productivity, and it is almost time for Josh to come home from work. Now I'm not grumbling about the lack of a social life (I DO have one!), I'm just frustrated with myself for ignoring my normal, blissfully uneventful life.
I also realized that I had been ignoring my blog. Well, not exactly ignoring it per se, but there is a reason that I don't update very often.
I'm a housewife. I cook meals, keep my house clean, and make sure my husband and pets are well kept. My life isn't exactly the most exciting. My thoughts can be fairly repetitive, which would make daily blogs insanely redundant. When the going gets real bad, I keep it personal. Airing out dirty laundry on the internet for all the world to see is a big pet peeve of mine, and I pride myself in keeping my personal issues just that-- personal. I also don't want to bore anyone with my mood swings (Those depression dips can get pretty low, just sayin'.). When classes are in session, the best you can get out of me is music theory and whatever other subject material get covered in class.
But then again, if you actually know me personally, you would see that there's no wonder I stay pretty wound up. I'm battling a mental/emotional illness, my mom is dead, my immediate family is pretty much split down the middle, my husband and I fight (Although that's just normal. My mom always used to tell me that if you didn't have any fights/spats/disagreements in a marriage that someone's getting walked on. Don't worry, there is no divorce on the horizon, we don't fight that often. We. Are. Fine. Josh and I ALWAYS land on our feet. Together.). These are things I don't like to share to the general public, because I don't like to dwell on negativity. I like to blog about fun things, like my random Pomplamoose plugs (Good music is a gift and should be shared generously) and my silly little discoveries and victories (Anyone remember my gushing over the newfound use of hyperlinks in my blog?) I might talk about how much I miss my mom, and that that loss has impacted my life in a big way, or briefly mention the depression in passing, but that's about the extent of it.
What truly matters though, is that I am alive. I'm healthy. I have a great number of people in my life who love me and make this crazy ride we call life totally freaking worth it. Somehow I feel that I've touched on this before. Here I go with the repetition! Oops!
That being said, I probably ought to wrap this up pretty quickly. Until next time...
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