I was going to write a rather depressing post, but then I started reading Hey Loons post about reflections in a dry month, and realized that sometimes life really isn’t that terrible, even when you hit those instances where you would like to sink through the earth from embarrassment. I am also reading Jenny Lawson’s book “Furiously Happy” which has been quite refreshing. I absolutely love that woman and hope some day to work up the courage to write to her. Although, I read something interesting that she confessed to and apparently she goes through email accounts like Kleenex during a cold. Oh well.
I am currently at home due to my anxiety getting the better of me. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s anxiety. The stomach flu hasn’t been totally ruled out yet either. Good thing I don’t have both. I have funny stories of things that have happened so far today. But first, I now need to attempt to remember to get my power cord… this will be the third time I’ve gotten up to get it from the other room and been side tracked….
There we go… much better. I have my Jasmine tea (which is quite cold at this point because I made it in my R2-D2 French press and promptly forgot about it), my heater is plugged in and blowing (just because it’s on the other side of the room doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it trying to warm me up. I suppose I could move over closer to it, but I won’t), and my indoor animals are all gathered around me. Bagheera is sleeping on the back of the love-seat, opening his eyes to watch me type when my typing gets just a little too noisy for him. Radar is curled up on her dog bed to my right. She likes to curl into as small of a position as she can get her 45 lbs of self into. And then there’s Eva….
It’s probably been about 10 minutes ago now since she stopped, but I heard a loud thump and a “scrtch scrch scrtch”then silence. Not even thirty seconds later, it happened again. I have no idea what that cat was doing, but she proceeded to do it for a good five minutes. When I peaked over the back of the love seat, she was on her side staring at me with her crazy eyes and essentially taunting me. What in the world was she doing? I’m pretty sure the first thump was her falling off the back of the love-seat. She is such a punk. But she’s a cuddly punk and I love her, even when she does drool all over me. * side note, she drools more than my dog.*
I think that’s most of my truly funny stories for today…. so far. Other than the fact that Eva is currently chowing down on dog food.
Why am I writing this on a Monday? I alluded to it earlier when I said I was staying home today due to either the stomach flu or anxiety. I’m pretty sure it’s anxiety. Each time I think about going in to work today my heart starts to race and I can literally feel my blood pressure rising. It’s not because I hate my job (I don’t, I actually kind of love my job), or even because I hate my boss (I will plead the 5th on this one), but because sometimes my brain like to play tricks on me. By sometimes, I mean it’s a daily thing.
Today, my brain is telling me that if I leave my property I will find out that everyone in the world hates me and that I am a terrible person and my animals only put up with me because they are forced to live in close proximity to me with no chance of escape. I am positive that I am a terrible person with no life (actually, that second part is true because it’s hard to have a life when you won’t leave your house) and no friends. Plus, I live in the Western World where you are expected to pull yourself up by your boot straps and put on a brave face and always be happy and never be sad or depressed or angry because those are selfish feelings.
So here I am, huddled in my darkened living room, typing a post to who knows how many people, pouring my heart out and hoping someone will take pity on me and remind me that while life sucks, there is goodness to it as well. Well, I guess I just reminded myself of that just now.
I am now at close to 800 words in this post. That’s longer than most college papers are required to be. If you’re still reading this, kudos to you. 805 words.
Sometimes I think about writing a book, but I really don’t know that I want to open up about the happenings in my life. Especially if I do ever actually run for president… then again, if I write it all out and put all my secrets on display, then no one will ever have to go digging for them and it’s so much easier to self-disclose that you are slightly insane than it is to have someone force you to admit it, or accuse you of it while you are in a very public place. 900.
That doesn’t look like 95 words to me. Apparently it is. I just counted… kinda. I really want to go back and erase some of what I’ve typed, but then my word count will be off. At least I don’t have an extreme case of OCD (just VERY mild OCD) and have to end this right at 1000 words. I mean, would my sign off count towards that 1000? Should it come after? How many words should you have in a chapter in a book? I looked it up and it’s recommended approximately 2500 words per chapter.
Peace, Joy, and Love people!