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Apr. 7th, 2009 03:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
altarflameI'm feeling so frustrated and over everything today.
Reality is dissapointing me.
I was trying to write. I was editing short stories. After Jake ripped up a sheet of stamps, Elise poured a bottle of bubble bath out on the futon and Isaac emptied board game pieces all over the dining table, I decided to give up.
I am a better mom when I don't write.
I go crazy though and eventually lose my ability to mother at all, if I don't write.
I'm tired of talking about writing one day and want to make it happen.
I have a lot of passion and energy to channel into this.
I want to not care about bubble bath on the futon and stamps shredded on the floor, but I can't.
I'm also tired of waiting around for Grant and Shaun to get back so I can take my sister somewhere for her birthday. I've been doing it for 2 hours now. Before which I was waiting for them to leave so they could get back. I don't even know WHERE we're going. And Laura is waiting. And I can't shake the feeling that by trying to improve her birthday I'm actually making it crappier.
I woke up this morning and it was one of those days when I couldn't find anything to wear. Anything. It's not that I'm too fat, it's how I'm shaped. Sometimes it gets to me. Today, if I could go get the reparative tummy tuck right now? I would do it. I would go lay down on the table this afternoon and get the good drugs and wake up able to wear pants that button and dresses that aren't maternity. In a few weeks my back wouldn't hurt every evening of my life. It would be a sufficient distraction that I wouldn't be brimming with creative energy and passion with nowhere to put it. Someone else would be dealing with the bubble bath and stamps and game pieces.
Instead I will continue to send emails that say, "You won't understand this" and get emails that say "Well, you don't understand THIS", and refresh my stupid facebook.
I am embarassed by how much of my foul mood is my own fault, due to either the excess of Easter candy I ate yesterday or the extent to which I've indulged in fantasies over the past week.
Really, I should be more grown up by now. I know that I am spoiled beyond belief, in about a million different ways.
Reality is dissapointing me.
I was trying to write. I was editing short stories. After Jake ripped up a sheet of stamps, Elise poured a bottle of bubble bath out on the futon and Isaac emptied board game pieces all over the dining table, I decided to give up.
I am a better mom when I don't write.
I go crazy though and eventually lose my ability to mother at all, if I don't write.
I'm tired of talking about writing one day and want to make it happen.
I have a lot of passion and energy to channel into this.
I want to not care about bubble bath on the futon and stamps shredded on the floor, but I can't.
I'm also tired of waiting around for Grant and Shaun to get back so I can take my sister somewhere for her birthday. I've been doing it for 2 hours now. Before which I was waiting for them to leave so they could get back. I don't even know WHERE we're going. And Laura is waiting. And I can't shake the feeling that by trying to improve her birthday I'm actually making it crappier.
I woke up this morning and it was one of those days when I couldn't find anything to wear. Anything. It's not that I'm too fat, it's how I'm shaped. Sometimes it gets to me. Today, if I could go get the reparative tummy tuck right now? I would do it. I would go lay down on the table this afternoon and get the good drugs and wake up able to wear pants that button and dresses that aren't maternity. In a few weeks my back wouldn't hurt every evening of my life. It would be a sufficient distraction that I wouldn't be brimming with creative energy and passion with nowhere to put it. Someone else would be dealing with the bubble bath and stamps and game pieces.
Instead I will continue to send emails that say, "You won't understand this" and get emails that say "Well, you don't understand THIS", and refresh my stupid facebook.
I am embarassed by how much of my foul mood is my own fault, due to either the excess of Easter candy I ate yesterday or the extent to which I've indulged in fantasies over the past week.
Really, I should be more grown up by now. I know that I am spoiled beyond belief, in about a million different ways.
