OK for 360 days of the year, I'm pretty amenable, happy, content, supportive, ambitious, conscientious, fulfilled but every now and then I get down in the dumps and today is one of those milestone days where if I had a weapon I might just use it.
I feel compulsed to remind myself (and a couple of others) that this is my blog. It's personal, boring, sometimes mildly entertaining and I'm lucky and very flattered that a few people choose to comment on it but it is a reflection of what's going on in my head. It's impulsive, unedited. I'm not getting paid for it and I'm not looking to win any grand awards. I don't advertise on it or promote it. It's public because when I first started I didn't have a clue about setting it up and once the comments started, I liked the interaction with others and still do. But it always was and still is a way for my kids to look on what a strange fish their mother is, her politics, her social conscience, her musical taste, her occasional sense of humour and mundane existence.(God I'm even talking about myself in the third person which is something I also hate!) My mother used to say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all", my father simply said "Be nice . . " I'm finding that harder and harder to do these days. I don't think my epitaph will ever say "She was a nice person." Today I don't feel very nice.
Little things annoy me, big things annoy me, in-between things annoy me. Today I was empty headed and vacant. Completely lacking in concentration, motivation or care. Not just unhappy, not just grumpy and I don't mean to belittle those who suffer from chronic and devastating depression but there was a dark cloud hanging over me from 7am that didn't rain and didn't move on and I don't know why which disturbs me more than I can say because of all things I'm very pragmatic and level headed and feel there should be a logical explanation for everything. I should have taken a friend's advice early this morning and had a sickie! A sanity day! But that goes against my high moral code.
I don't know what's come over me. I feel jipped, short-changed, lonely and wallowing in self pity. I'm miserable and focussing unnecessarily on the negative. I am careless and slap-dash, unenthused and bored. I am broke and beligerant . . . I'm sick of a leaking roof, old cars, broken washing machines and noisy hot water pipes. I'm over walking on eggshells just so that others don't feel uncomfortable. I've had enough of tiny bedrooms and an unsatisfying water saving shower. I'm over a gigantic back yard that never seems to be tidy. I've had it with dog hair and lizard poo and flies in my garbage bin and spiders on my roof. I hate my ageing furniture and grubby couches, holland blinds and fly screens that don't fit properly. I'm tired of a mail box whose lid falls off every time I pick up the mail. I'm tired of picking up the mail when everyone gets home before me and just waits for it to be delivered. I've had it with being woken up at midnight with next door's U2 blaring Vertigo and Queen Alive. I'm frustrated with being such a creature of habit and being so bloody predictable. I'm annoyed that there's no space in MY shed for more than a tractor, saddle and an old wardrobe because it's full of other people's stuff. And if that Tim Forster Greenwood rings me one more time to say that Mulpha Norwest are interested in our block I'll bloody knee cap him with Adam's baseball bat . . my hopes are raised and thwarted on a weekly basis.
After tackling Drummerboy and ClareBear's bedrooms, I hate the meaningless clutter that's accumulated over the years but haven't the heart to throw it away. Who needs a 10cm statue of Eric Cantona or a broken Mitsubishi Magna Tail light on their dressing table! I'm sick of this depressing grey weather and sticky humidity. Melbourne give us your SUNSHINE! Your citizens are used to the gloom. I'm bored with my clothes and hate my hair and my body shape. I can't stand the two disgustingly mangy dogs that insist on 'nesting' in our camelia hedge and kicking bark all over the verandah and carport. I'm sooo over the junk on the verandah even though half of it's mine!
Even my lipsticks are brown, monchromatic and lacklustre everything seems 'beige'. I feel achy and neglected like some old Weatherboard House that was once lustrous and welcoming. I have a real "Alice Doesn't Live Here Any More" demeanour. I'm anti-social and scathing. Rude and impertinent. Unmotivated and unhappy. I'm disappointed in relationships, fed up with a job that I once loved and now loathe. I'm ashamed of my laziness and lament the loss of my sense of humour of late. I've come to despise trivial conversation and shallow people. Yep. Today I am the epitome of a grumpy old woman.
Ahh . . just one of those days . . I'll get over it but for now . . . indulge me . . I'm having a little wallow! Doesn't everyone feel like this now and again?
Ah, "Self pity in its early stages is as snug as a feather mattress. Only when it hardens does it become uncomfortable" (Maya Angelou - American Poet)
Even though I feel like a mint crisp, all cold and crunchy in the middle, I'm really like a Caramello Koala, hard on the outside but all squishy and sweet in the middle!