More me
I'm having a rough day. Hormones have fastened their familiar, threatening grip around my throat and I'm simply trying to maintain my way through the next few days until the worst passes...as I know that it will. As it always does. I suppose this wasn't the smartest time for me to start packing up my office then.
The bad part is that I only have a certain amount of time until the first, so I need to get busy. It's not like I can just not do it until the waves pass, I don't really have a choice. Although, I'm still not settled on a house to move into. Kettering? Oakwood? Or closer to work in Beavercreek? I don't know. Guess I should decide.
I texted someone earlier and said, "I know it's time for a break from Courtney when standing in a store & hearing her mouth run at me I am consumed with fantasies of punching her in the face." She is such a study in contradictions. I guess she doesn't fall far from the tree in that respect, but she still drives me crazy. Sometimes she is so gracious and giving and other times (like today) she amazes me with her selfish and ungrateful attitude. The sense of entitlement that this child possesses often leaves me speechless.
I was in a pretty good mood before spending the afternoon with her actually. I had a doctors appointment and was being so blatantly flirted with by the [cute] medical assistant that it was almost embarrassing. He walked away for a minute and Courtney whispered, "HE IS SOOOO HITTING ON YOU!" I could only smile and say, "I know." It felt good and left me with a spring in my step.
Fast forward several teenage-filled hours later and I am in quite a foul state. I'm in the all-too-familiar hormonal funk that leaves me feeling alone, overwhelmed and unloved. And now I am sitting in my office. And I am having a hard time with moving for the first time since the process started.
My office is the one room in the house that is more me than any of the others. It was supposed to be the one room that was mine and mine alone...which means it's quite ironic that it's the one room that I never go into because the kids constantly make it such a shambles that I get pissed off whenever I walk through the door. To keep any kind of peace in my life I only enter when necessary or I would be in a constant state of bitching at them.
But today, here I am and as I sat feeling overwhelmed and not sure where to start, I felt sadness begin to overtake me. This room is ever inch ME and sometimes looking at that can be painful when you tend to suffer loss as often as I do. Some of the things in here that I love are the collection of skeleton keys (that I have because they remind me of my Grandma because she collected keys), my favorite pictures of my kids, my angel collection, the cookie jar from my grandparents house, my books, etc etc. Then I see things like some flowers from my wedding (that are pointless now. should I send them to goodwill? throw them out?) My cake topper. The address plaque that hung outside of the first house that I owned (and lost) that also happened to be my parents house.
Isn't it funny how cherished, sentimental posessions can be such a two-edged sword? Sometimes they are such a comfort and other times they can chafe at the already raw edges that your soul may have. Fortunately, I know that it will all be better in a few days. But for now I'm not only wading through hormones, but memories and emotions. Go before me Lord.
The bad part is that I only have a certain amount of time until the first, so I need to get busy. It's not like I can just not do it until the waves pass, I don't really have a choice. Although, I'm still not settled on a house to move into. Kettering? Oakwood? Or closer to work in Beavercreek? I don't know. Guess I should decide.
I texted someone earlier and said, "I know it's time for a break from Courtney when standing in a store & hearing her mouth run at me I am consumed with fantasies of punching her in the face." She is such a study in contradictions. I guess she doesn't fall far from the tree in that respect, but she still drives me crazy. Sometimes she is so gracious and giving and other times (like today) she amazes me with her selfish and ungrateful attitude. The sense of entitlement that this child possesses often leaves me speechless.
I was in a pretty good mood before spending the afternoon with her actually. I had a doctors appointment and was being so blatantly flirted with by the [cute] medical assistant that it was almost embarrassing. He walked away for a minute and Courtney whispered, "HE IS SOOOO HITTING ON YOU!" I could only smile and say, "I know." It felt good and left me with a spring in my step.
Fast forward several teenage-filled hours later and I am in quite a foul state. I'm in the all-too-familiar hormonal funk that leaves me feeling alone, overwhelmed and unloved. And now I am sitting in my office. And I am having a hard time with moving for the first time since the process started.
My office is the one room in the house that is more me than any of the others. It was supposed to be the one room that was mine and mine alone...which means it's quite ironic that it's the one room that I never go into because the kids constantly make it such a shambles that I get pissed off whenever I walk through the door. To keep any kind of peace in my life I only enter when necessary or I would be in a constant state of bitching at them.
But today, here I am and as I sat feeling overwhelmed and not sure where to start, I felt sadness begin to overtake me. This room is ever inch ME and sometimes looking at that can be painful when you tend to suffer loss as often as I do. Some of the things in here that I love are the collection of skeleton keys (that I have because they remind me of my Grandma because she collected keys), my favorite pictures of my kids, my angel collection, the cookie jar from my grandparents house, my books, etc etc. Then I see things like some flowers from my wedding (that are pointless now. should I send them to goodwill? throw them out?) My cake topper. The address plaque that hung outside of the first house that I owned (and lost) that also happened to be my parents house.
Isn't it funny how cherished, sentimental posessions can be such a two-edged sword? Sometimes they are such a comfort and other times they can chafe at the already raw edges that your soul may have. Fortunately, I know that it will all be better in a few days. But for now I'm not only wading through hormones, but memories and emotions. Go before me Lord.
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