Thoughts on Why My Week Sucked

6 Jul

In my attempt to re-ignite my blogging habit, I’ve tried to refrain from using my blog(s) solely as means to vent. But it seems that, having done myself the great disservice of moving halfway across the country from the vast majority of my closest friends, this method will have to do. That is, until I can pick up the phone or text and be sitting on someone’s couch with a drink in a half hour or less.

This weekend really sucked.  To start, I’m not a fan of holidays. I wasn’t to begin with, and a year of being depressed and crying at pretty much every major celebration certainly didn’t help that cause.  One would think that having Tim back would make things just peachy.  But one would be wrong. I think it’s going to take about a year of adjustment to the year that was spent apart.

Where was I? Oh, yes… the holiday.  To me, holidays are synonymous with: extra stress, everything being closed, traffic/travel sucking, and trying not to spend an entire weekend eating like crap. Add to this weekend’s past one that we’ve endured a week of feeling like we live in a war zone, thanks to the rednecks and their penchant for cheap explosives.  Last year, I was so far out in the boonies that I didn’t think about it.  This year, we had mini-Armageddon 25 feet from out backdoor every.single.night. Fireworks curfew is 10?  Oh, you won’t mind if we go until 10:30 or so, right?  I mean, even though we’ve been setting them off since 7:30 for the past four nights in a row. And last night?  I actually had to go over there and be the asshole neighbor who asked them to stop.  At 12:20 in the morning.  “Um, excuse me.  I know you probably don’t care because you’ve been drinking beer since 10 a.m., but I’ve got a toddler who’s trying to sleep and my husband and I both have PTSD and get a little twitchy after five straight hours of this shit.  So, if you could cut it out, I’d appreciate it.”

I guess my body’s way of starting off last week by sleeping for almost two days straight was supposed to offset the lack of sleep the rest of the week.  Somehow, I still ended up napping today from 2:30 to 7, further adding to my sense of discombobulation and grouchiness.  And speaking of grouchiness… if there is a pill to offset that homicidal feeling I get when I don’t get enough sleep, I would almost be willing to try it.  I spent most of yesterday and today snarking at Tim over stupid shit, and just generally being an insufferable bitch about things.  It seems ridiculous in hindsight, but at the time when he is asking me retarded male questions, not reading my mind, or even so much as breathing incorrectly, I feel like my eyeballs are going to pop out of my head from the rage. I think Valium would do just fine.  Maybe missing yoga class for two weeks straight has something to do with it, too.

Lest I forget another kick in the proverbial nut sack, today is the anniversary of my first wedding.  I guess that makes it an ex-iversary.  Which, normally I don’t really think about.  But thanks to my subscription to the extended family nationwide e-group for the sharing of birthdays, anniversaries, and all things pointless and inane (like what business we should boycott because they support gay rights, or the weather in some far corner of some state you’ll never visit), I was reminded by e-mail that today was (or would have been) my sixth year anniversary.  Brought to you by the group of people who most enjoy reminding you that you’re the only person from your generation of the family who has been divorced (out of about 70+ various layers of cousins). Let’s never mind the fact that I’ve been divorced for four years, or that this happens every year, and every year the moderators say the fixed the “glitch” that keeps causing the reminder of this joyous occasion to pop up.  Happy ex-iversary to me.

This is probably all delayed/compounded/subconscious stress over the month I’m about to undertake: another full-time school|house remodel|raising a toddler|Tim back in grad school full-time|long-distance managing a property that is a pain in the ass extravaganza.  But I’m ready. Even if I have to drink every night, I will make it. And maybe by the end of the summer, I’ll get to sleep for the first time in eight months without the use of Advil PM.  Until then, it’s fun and excitement at our casa! Buckle your safety belts, kids. This ride’s about to leave the station.

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2 Responses to “Thoughts on Why My Week Sucked”

  1. .Bittersweet. (Aunt Night-Mere) 6 July 2009 at 16:21 #

    *sigh* My love … you’re in my thoughts. I have had those days too and we’ll all have them again before we exit this crazy ride called life. I only wish I was closer to you so I could help you kick the doldrums in the balls and laugh it off for the rest of the night. I miss you. I love you. I’m here for you. You know this, maaaaaan! =)

  2. Steph lova 10 July 2009 at 01:29 #

    I love how you are able to verbalize your frustration in ways that I can completely appreciate. I wish you the best, my dear. And am sending you my love.

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