Silver White Winters that Melt into Spring....
These are a few of my favorite things..
when the rain stops
when I can shop
when I'm feeling cruel
I simply take out all my anger on you
and then I don't feel so bad......
My mood is saying PMS, my calendar is saying "way too early". When Bob walks by me, chews food, tells a story with his hands flinging all over or breaths loud enough for me to hear I cringe, and that is so PMS and yet it is happening weeks early. I even had the bitching post premature, that, also, is so PMS time.
Maybe the move has put me into an extended bad mood that doesn't end or maybe I am tired of being stuck in the house answering the work phones, anticipating spring coming and knowing that with that comes golf, hours and hours, endless hours of golf for my dad, which means endless hours of being stuck in the house anytime the sun shines or the temperature is above 55 degrees, rain or not.
I'm bored, I 'm confined and like a caged animal, I fight back..maybe even towards those that want to help. I get mad at myself for always falling back into the same traps, over and over. It may be my imagination, but sometimes I feel the extreme understanding or consideration shown to me at times always has a price. My dad gave me time off to move, which seems reasonable to most people, but which, in his case, is a BIG FREAKIN' DEAL, cause time off for anyone other than him, is not acceptable. But it is like some bait to set me up with and I take it and SLAM...trapped again. The early calls, the never-ending requests to take care of the simplest of tasks during his brief answering of the calls, the schedule this, call them,take care of that .........and the way I feel obligated after the time off.
Brooke still wants to go home and finding these pictures in the box of our old house didn't help. She carried one around Sunday, of the outside of our house all decorated for her 2nd birthday. She screamed, "Dat my home, Mommy, take me dare!" with lots of her usual, sad and pathetic "I wanna go home" s too. Failing to adjust in a timely manner must be genetic.
Being happy or content is hard work when forces that seem uncontrollable are working against it so often. It doesn't help that I find myself getting way too caught up in them all, but, damn, another easy trap to fall into, for me. I get so freakin' tired of my own complaints because most of them I hold inside. Can you imagine how long that list must be? Can you imagine that poor souls that have to listen to my outloud ones are not even aware that there is even more, so MUCH more? I suck.
Of course it could be none of these things. My mood, aside from PMS times, is directly related to my bank account. The lower the balance gets, the lower I get too. The balance is pretty damn low this week.....yeah, that must it.
when the rain stops
when I can shop
when I'm feeling cruel
I simply take out all my anger on you
and then I don't feel so bad......
My mood is saying PMS, my calendar is saying "way too early". When Bob walks by me, chews food, tells a story with his hands flinging all over or breaths loud enough for me to hear I cringe, and that is so PMS and yet it is happening weeks early. I even had the bitching post premature, that, also, is so PMS time.
Maybe the move has put me into an extended bad mood that doesn't end or maybe I am tired of being stuck in the house answering the work phones, anticipating spring coming and knowing that with that comes golf, hours and hours, endless hours of golf for my dad, which means endless hours of being stuck in the house anytime the sun shines or the temperature is above 55 degrees, rain or not.
I'm bored, I 'm confined and like a caged animal, I fight back..maybe even towards those that want to help. I get mad at myself for always falling back into the same traps, over and over. It may be my imagination, but sometimes I feel the extreme understanding or consideration shown to me at times always has a price. My dad gave me time off to move, which seems reasonable to most people, but which, in his case, is a BIG FREAKIN' DEAL, cause time off for anyone other than him, is not acceptable. But it is like some bait to set me up with and I take it and SLAM...trapped again. The early calls, the never-ending requests to take care of the simplest of tasks during his brief answering of the calls, the schedule this, call them,take care of that .........and the way I feel obligated after the time off.
Brooke still wants to go home and finding these pictures in the box of our old house didn't help. She carried one around Sunday, of the outside of our house all decorated for her 2nd birthday. She screamed, "Dat my home, Mommy, take me dare!" with lots of her usual, sad and pathetic "I wanna go home" s too. Failing to adjust in a timely manner must be genetic.
Being happy or content is hard work when forces that seem uncontrollable are working against it so often. It doesn't help that I find myself getting way too caught up in them all, but, damn, another easy trap to fall into, for me. I get so freakin' tired of my own complaints because most of them I hold inside. Can you imagine how long that list must be? Can you imagine that poor souls that have to listen to my outloud ones are not even aware that there is even more, so MUCH more? I suck.
Of course it could be none of these things. My mood, aside from PMS times, is directly related to my bank account. The lower the balance gets, the lower I get too. The balance is pretty damn low this week.....yeah, that must it.
posted by Sunny at Monday, March 27, 2006
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