How Did I Get Here, And Where Is The Next Turn?

Greetings and salutations to all who deem this worthy of your time...

Brought up Apr 27, 2013

^%#%$%^&%$#%^!!!!!!!

Diet? Screw it!!

I have chain smoked all day, and now stuffed myself with enough comfort food to put an army into a coma: Pasta, pork rinds, chocolate peanut butter oatmeal cookie on top, washed down with one of my left over beers from New Year's Eve. Didn't work. I still feel like crap, and I think I might barf. It's been one of those days. It started crappy, and just slid right on down the damned cow pie that is my life from there. Actually, it started last night.

The husband warned me his check would be lousy, and it was. I bit my tongue, swearing silently about the tap dancing I would have to do if the husband didn't. Lately, I have been insisting he do some of it. After 20+ years of it, I figure it's high time he listen to the bullying and condescending tones. I did deep breathing, and put it aside instead of blowing my top.

The reality of the crap I will have to deal with this week sunk in this morning as i ducked the call of a bill collector. I felt lousy doing it, but I really didn't want to do that dance.

Then, well, it just got worse. I'll keep those gory details to myself. It's something I guess I need to learn to do more often, apparently. I need to work on not saying what ever pops into my head, I guess. Nuff said.

I spent most of the day either teary eyed, or with a fake smile as I swallowed every crappy thing that happened, was said, or I felt.

By about 3, I felt as if I had either been run through a buzz saw, stuffed in a blender with the puree button pushed, or scrubbed down with sand paper. Take a pick, and it's about 10 times that.

The boy's car he has worked so hard on, is once again screwing up. Guess who plays taxi driver for probably the next few weeks? My knee feels like a combo of razor blades and ground glass have been sprinkled inside it. Doesn't come close to the throbbing in my head. Add the damned rain, and shake vigorously.

The final blow was the boy using my new umbrella, without asking, before I used it, and having his damned car smack dab in the middle of our not so big parking area, just big enough for two of the three movable vehicles here, as I was returning from the store. Stupid, I know, childish, definitely, but more tears came to my eyes. Of course, then the boy starts bullying me to tell him what was wrong. you've got to be !@$@ing kidding me! Oh, yeah, he was at work all day and missed my crappy day. And he even had the nerve to swipe some of my damned cookies as he headed out to do God knows what.

Screw it. I need another beer...

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