Overwhelmed or Underwhelmed (because I just don’t care)

For the last few weeks, I have had an internal struggle going on.  I can’t put my finger exactly what is bothering me, but I feel that it has finally caught up with me.  My brain is a mess and I can’t seem to float to the top and figure it all out.  I do know that it is manifesting itself in a surly attitude.  Now, I know that my attitude most times is no Mary Sunshine.  As a matter of fact, I think I shoved her in my Jr. high locker and there she still sits.  However, I don’t have that air of sarcasm or slight humor behind it, right now.  So if you see me and I tell you to go have your way with yourself, you know I mean it. 

I realized that all of this when in a tired stupor I seriously considering telling all the mothers at Amber’s dance class to go to hell and while you are at I hope you slide down a perioxide laden pole with a raging fresh cut on your ass.  I swear I just wanted out of that hell of chaos and screaming girls.  I needed the rain to stop, for Sun to sleep and Sam, for the love of God already, stop doing whatever he was doing RIGHT THIS INSTANCE.

I thought that all this rage was because my husband kept me out all night on Tuesday.  I tend to get angry when I am sleep deprived.  As evidence I present the entire first year of Sam’s life.  We were back to regular date nights, which were put on hiatus for sickness and up the butt scopes (not mine or hubby’s).  We enjoyed a nice dinner and then took in a good movie, but George had some work to do.  I, generally, don’t mind when I have to accompany George on business.  However, when it is after midnight and you have to go to a seedy part of town, that loving wife crap turns into an every man for himself mentally.  I was ready to run the moment the shit went down.  Now, in my mind this is a seedy part of town, in the minds of others it is the 200 block of Royal street, where right next to the fancy antique shops there are the skankiest strip clubs in town.  One is open and brings in the upper crust of society during the day and the other has people walking around that you wouldn’t want to meet in church.  I will let you decide which is which.  Usually if it is dark and lightly populated I do not feel safe at all.  So in my mind things could go very bad, but in George’s mind it is just another day at the office.  Before anyone starts to think that we are in the flesh business, we aren’t but some of our clients are.  Just don’t ask, because I am not willingly to tell you.

But then I woke up today and had the same feeling.  I mean I had enough sleep.  Woke up at a later time than usual, but still was on time, so life should be great.  Oh no it wasn’t, I look around and the same stuff that has been here since I married George, since we moved into our house, since we had our kids were too much for me.  I think this is my seasonal condition.  Spring has flown by, summer is heating up and the humidity is smacking me in the face like a cold wet brick every morning.  (Get ready for all those posts about how hot it is.  Hey, if the northerners get a pass on the snow then us southerners get a pass on the heat.)  While the North would love for a little sign of spring, ours has gone and I am dreading summer.  Summer brings a little girl that complains all the time about being bored, a little boy very upset for having his older sister in his presence constantly  and me not having much of a break from their battles and whines.  It, also, brings tax season.  Your tax season may end on April 15, ours last until October 15.  There are check registers that I have to enter, because as soon as I enter that last entry of Dec 31 I can never seem to remember to do it daily, weekly or monthly again.  So I am left entering an entire year of purchases in the course of a week and wondering what the hell was that entry for and why am I buying so much shit from Target.  Then there is the impending doom that hovers our me of the BIG ARGUMENT.  The one where George is pissed because he doesn’t understand my categories and where I am simply happy to turn over my end of the job.

Don’t even tell me, because I know the pattern here.  I create all this with my mood and am almost asking for an argument.  And yeah, that is what years and years of therapy will do for you.  It, also, helps you to mask it all a little better so that people really don’t see that explosion coming.  Like yesterday, when after the millionth time of Sam asking me to put together a half demolished train track system and me not being able to figure out how to fix it without starting over, took it apart and yell at him that if he can’t listen and play right then he can’t have it.  Of course, he looked at me like I had lost my everlovin’ mind and was wondering when the next train out of crazyville was leaving.  Don’t worry, if he can get over his haircut then it is safe to say that his 2 yr old mind has moved on to bigger and better things like cookies and locking little stuff pets into cages.  So it is all good.  

I just wish I can get everything I need to do done so that I can enjoy my downtime.  At this moment, I, not only have a check register waiting, but laundry, floors, meals and a million other things that need attention.  So I am warning the world please leave me alone.  If I say I am going to fill our your little radio survey and then mail it back to you, I will.  If I take time out of my busy schedule of hiding under the covers, to call you and let you know that I made an error when paying the bills.  Then maybe you can let the rest of the people in your office know that I corrected the situation and please stop calling me before I cut the damn vehicle in half and leave it leaking oil in the middle of your office building.  You would think that you can cut me a little slack since we HAVE NEVER MISSED A PAYMENT BEFORE.  All I am saying is please get off my back, there are plenty of monkeys already occuping the space and no more need to apply. 

Oh yeah, one last thing, I think I am going to take a little blogavaction.  It is just one more thing I don’t need to worry about.  See you in better mental times.