soapboxdiner

More on feeling blase and temperamental

It's the in between that kills me. I'm so anxious and so tired and so bored and so short tempered.

I feel I should be doing something fun to pull me out of these doldrums - color my hair to something even marginally resembling normal. Take a scented bath with candles and soaking long enough to paint my nails and get all soft and mushy. Exfoliate this dried out facial skin. Listen to loud, up-beat music and rock out.

But the thought of expending energy on all the activity of bathing makes me even more tired.

On top of it all, I've been thinking about the new budget. I havehavehave to pay off these credit cards. I want to start fresh with no debt to think about. But then there are too many things in need of purchasing - all at once. Clothes, appliances, car repairs, savings.

I want to move out of this hole I've called home for eight years. Mainly because I'm tired of feeling like I can't walk out into my yard and have privacy from the neighbors, or safety from thieves, or a street with draining adequate to carry off the lakes of water in the street so I can get my mail (if it hasn't been stolen out of my broken mailbox) without a paddle boat. But then I think about moving Steven from his school, from his friends. I think about the money I will have to pidgeon hole away out of my budget. It just goes on and on.

I want a vacation from mothering. I want to not have to come immediately home every night because of the sitter. I don't want to have to immediately put dinner on to feed this other person when I'm not hungry and don't feel like cooking or eating myself. I don't want to every night bathe and read and tuck this other person in.

I want time off. I've been good. Don't I get time off for being good?

This week I'm just too tired to do a single thing. No cooking, no cleaning, no going and doing or being or nothing. Just bone and brain dead, dead tired. And running circles in my head over too many topics when nothing but stress results. Tired.

I think I'll go sit on my couch and contemplate the nature of blocking out everything as I vegetate to the tune of WB re-run sitcoms. I wish I had cable. I'm sick to death of Everyone Loves Raymond. The name lies, darlings. I hate Raymond. They should call it Everyone Loves Raymond Except SDB - Cuz She Hates Him And Thinks He's Stupid.

Yippy. The kid's fish sticks are done. I'll be off now to feed him.

Sigh. It just never ends.

6:26 pm - 03.20.03
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