Funk
There is no denying it. I am in a funk.
It’s. Bad.
Nothing seems to cheer me for more than a moment. Granted, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks; what with the Business Trip from HELL, a death in the family, a falling out with my Dad and just general Bleh. But still. I’ve had several things to ‘blog home about’, but I cannot find the motivation or inspiration to do so.
That pretty much describes me in general, now that I think about it. No motivation. No inspiration. Nada.
I feel useless, lethargic, pointless, senseless and generally….like poo. I feel sorry for Dan, the kids and my friends. I’m a walking time bomb.
Bleh.
Dan has been wonderful, taking on extra “chores” and the general slack I seem to be creating. I just can’t seem to do anything right….let alone at all. This of course makes me feel even more guilty, leading to an even deeper spiral of misery and hopelessness. I cannot recall the last meal I cooked (on my own) or the last thing I accomplished off of my mile long “to-do” list.
Bleh.
It seems I can find more to hate, then I can things that bring me joy. Granted, there ARE a few sparse things. Claire being the largest one right now. Even that comes riddled with guilt and a sense of failure. She’s growing before my eyes….faster than I care to admit. There doesn’t seem to be enough hours to relish her accomplishments or to get sloppy baby kisses. She’s walking now (albeit, like Frankenstein) and babbling up a storm. Its hard to believe that in just about a week, she will complete her first trip around the sun. I’ve done nothing in the way of plans for a celebration, and can’t seem to find the inspiration to do so…as it seems everything I would want to do is near impossible as we don’t have the cash flow nor the room to entertain easily. My Mother is coming up to see us that weekend from Southern California, and we are going to do “something”, I just have no clue what. I know…Claire is not going to remember or care, one way or the other. But I do. She is my last, my baby…my ‘Bug’, and I want so much to create a memory that we all will cherish.
Bleh.
Then there is the other two. Is it time for school to start yet? I swear we spend more time hollerin’ at them to leave each other alone, to stop fighting, to get their chores done, and a variety of other “typical kid” traits, that by the end of the day, 9pm cannot come soon enough. I hate that we’ve not been able to do anything “fun” with them this summer. They’ve been cooped up in the apartment for the most part, as Dan and I work our butts off to barely scrape by. Haley is going to put me in an early grave. That’s all I can say. That girl has the map to my buttons memorized, and takes no greater joy then to push them ALL when I least need her too. It seems that ever since we “gave her, her own room”, she’s just gotten more snotty and painful to deal with. Dan actually threatened to move TJ back in with her if she didn’t knock it off. I mean, just because you have your own room does NOT mean that you are an adult, and therefore able to rule your own universe. * mumble *
Bleh.
Work is ok. I’m buried. But then again, I’ve been that for awhile, and now - with the Compaq/HP merger starting to have a major impact on my department - I don’t see that coming to an end anytime soon. The business trip was a joke as regards the travel and accommodations end of things. Between tiny ass airplane seats, rushing between connecting flights, sold out airline food, late arrivals, rental car nightmares, dirty hotel rooms, ongoing fire alarm malfunctions and scrambled eggs the consistency of Jell-O….yeah. Fun. Times. NOT. The actual site visit went extremely well, and I do have to admit that rolling around in a huge King Size bed was quite fun. On my return to work, the Site Manager contacted me. She relayed great happiness both from the HP Sales division as well as McKesson (the customer I support and visited) as regards my trip out to GA, and the impact and knowledge I had/gave. She even gave me a Land’s End catalogue to look through to find a “thank you” gift. They slap the Spherion logo on them and such. I picked out a nice black jacket, kinda a wind breaker shell with a fleece lining…will come in quite handy in a few months, as I don’t have a winter jacket that fits and is good for going out in public with. I guess if I am looking at complaints, work is the one place that is pretty complaint free. Our department is not being touched by HP layoffs, and my Manager has expressed that he is quite pleased with my work and efforts/progress on the McKesson account. I’ve got a few fellow cube-mates that manage a smile or laugh out of me, and I get a sense of accomplishment in some form or fashion by the end of each day. (most the time. )
Bleh.
The weather sucks. If there is a worse time to be suffering from depression, I don’t know what it is. 105-109 is the average daily temp. We are lucky to get a few 99 - 101 once a week or so. Its like walking into a convection oven. Hot, dry and arid. It makes you want to curl up in a dark corner and sleep under a ceiling fan, butt-ass naked until October. This is, in fact, one of the reasons that Dan and I are playing around with the idea of moving someplace else next year. We cannot afford it anytime soon, but its weighing heavily on our minds, for many reasons.
Bleh.
The apartment is the bain of my existence. I hate it. I don’t make any noises otherwise. Its a well known, documented and often re-instated fact. 5 people living in a box that is 990 sqft and filled to the BRIM with crap, is NOT my idea of a good time. This apartment was suppose to be temporary. When we moved out from FL, the idea was to get an apartment that suited us for the time - and as soon as we were settled in our jobs - start looking for a house. That was two years ago and one child less. At the time, we would have been able to get a 3 bedroom house for around 275k - 300k. Dan had a good job paying a nice wage, and my HP income was a good supplement. We had the chance at getting a great mortgage with the jobs we had and with our expenses at the time. Then, slowly, one thing after the other raveled that apart. Now? Houses in this area are starting at 450k, and that’s with your neighbor being able to reach into your window and flip on your light switch from the privacy of THEIR OWN HOUSE. Needless to say, we are fucked. There is no chance of the market in this area going down, in fact, month after month its steadily rising as the area around us expands and booms.
Bleh.
I look around this messy, unorganized, cluttered, over-stuffed and growing pile of belongs that inhabits this apartment….and all I can do is sit down and cry. We have to put a baby gate up in the hall-way so that Claire has someplace to crawl/walk and play without one of us having to be behind her every step so that she doesn’t get into some pile or corner of stuff that she shouldn’t be in. Dan and I have boxes that are clothes are piled in, because we no longer have a bedroom or closet. In order to keep our sanity and to keep Haley from killing her brother, we moved TJ and Claire into the “Master” bedroom and stuck our bed in the living room. I was ok with it at first. Its not like we entertain, and my 10 year old sofas are literally falling apart. We stowed our dining room table and chairs with my Dad and put our computers in the “dinette”. The kids eat at folding tables on the patio (on the dilapidated old sofa) or inside at the love seat (depending on weather). Its pathetic. Clothes all over, piles of this, that and the other. Anyone that knows me will tell you I DESPISE clutter and piles…so its very safe for me to say that this house will be the death of me, or some unsuspecting passerby, if I don’t find not only the motivation to do something about it, but the space to shove all this shit.
Bleh.
I took a couple days off for several reasons, one of which was to clean out some closets and try to toss some junk we no longer use or need. Did I get ANYthing done? Nope. Not a damn thing. I suppose it didn’t help that I’ve been fighting a sore throat since I came back from Atlanta, which this morning resulted in me barely being able to talk, but still. I have the best intentions, I talk through the steps, and possible resolution to that pile, or this stack. But when it comes time to execute those plans? I fail. Every. Single. Time. Which of course leads to another lovely round of spiraling depression, hopelessness, failure and general funk.
Bleh.
I wish we had the money to move. Or, at the very least, to be able to get supplies that would help organize and make living in this box more bearable until we CAN move. Simple things like dressers, or closet shelves/organizes or bins…or SOMETHING. I’m half tempted to find out about renting one of the on site garages, so that we can stow stuff like Christmas ornaments, Claire’s clothes that no longer fit (that I cannot sell or give away until I know what Sunny is having) and the massive piles of books, hobby supplies and the like. Bleh. Maybe I will call the apartment manager and find out about that.
~ looks up ~ Wow…I sure spit alot out, didn’t I.
Well, I guess I will mosey over to the expansive and roomy kitchenette and see about putting together a grocery list. Have I mentioned, that in this heat, if we heat up the oven long enough to make fucking tater tots, we all suffer in unbearable heat for about 4 hours after?
I shall leave you with this, my dear readers. A rant I sent to Old Navy. * hugs *