For two fucking days I’ve been trying to complete a photo post on the gorgeousness of our newly painted house, but Blogger is having some serious buggage with the picture upload function. So, I can’t finish the post. It’s pissing me off.
For two fucking days I’ve been pounding away at the significance section of my introduction with markedly little progress. I feel like there’s this huge concrete wall and I’m kicking it, and punching it, and bashing my head against it, and leaning on it, and pleading with it, and yet, there it remains between me and my goal. Not sure how to go around it or over it or under it. I think I have to go through it. So, I can’t finish the introduction. It’s pissing me off.
For two fucking days I’ve had to wear dirty or ugly or too-tight clothes. All of my clothes that fit are dirty, half of which have been sitting in the back of the car for a month waiting to be taken to the dry cleaner when we had the money, the other half of which are in the basement waiting patiently for someone to put them into the washer. I just got done washing them all last week, so I’m annoyed that they need it again. Talk about high maintenance. Not to mention the backlog of sheets and towels that seem to always be in the hampers down there so that I can never actually FINISH the laundry. Oh, and some cat managed to push open a basement window and pee in our basement somewhere so that the whole place smells like cat urine, so it is markedly unpleasant to go down and actually do the laundry. Yep, you guessed it, it’s pissing me off.
Oh, and for two fucking days I’ve put off calling my damned health insurance even though I have to. They are refusing to pay for the crown (A.K.A. Cylontooth) that I had to have put on because my tooth was cracked. Something about time and policies etc. It’s pissing me off.
For two fucking days I’ve been depressed and grumpy and mean to Spousal Unit for no good reason except that I can’t make a Blogger post, I can’t finish my introduction, our basement smells, I’m in debt to my dentist, and I’m in holey underwear and old, long, pleated shorts circa 1990 that ride. Some days everything seems so easy and requires no effort. Some days everything is just hard. Even easy stupid shit like laundry and phone calls and blogging. So, I’m going to put on a skirt I teach in, a tee-shirt with Malcolm X on it that my sister-in-law left here three years ago and that I delinquently never mailed to her because I suck but that I kept my virtue intact by not wearing, hold my nose, and go down and put in a load of laundry. Then, I’m going to return to bashing my head against that wall and hope that this time, I break through.