Tag Archives: Meltdown

Kablooey!

It hasn’t been an easy week or two. I’ve been trying really hard to not let external forces get to me, but they have. They won. I lost worse than the Cubs have been doing in the post-season for ages. There’s just so much going on and so little I can actually control … or if I can control it, it’s too much. My head is spinning and my jaw is agape at all that is taking place. I’ve finally had my

meltdown. No biggie. Necessary sometimes, in order for me to pick up the pieces and continue on.

On the upside, only 26 more days until

the season truly begins. Yessss!!!!!!!

xoxo

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One small step …

I’ve done it. The Olympics are over. I’ve survived … with *some* of my sanity left. 

And, I’m getting a day off. Tomorrow. And Leigh isn’t working. Yay me.

But I still feel on the verge of a meltdown. Maybe it’s my perpetually filthy apartment. Maybe it’s the funk that seems to ascend — without fail — this time of year. Maybe it’s because the snow this winter hasn’t been particularly epic, despite the fact that I’ve had many an awesome Saturday on the mountain. Maybe it’s because my roommates suck. Maybe it’s that I just need more sunshine.

Things are just … off. Not with anything in particular. In fact, in the vast majority of my life, things couldn’t be better. But there is a lingering, nagging wretch on my shoulder that keeps just dragging me down further and further. And I can’t put my thumb, or the proverbial flyswatter, on it. And it’s making me grumpy.

Pffffttt.

xoxo

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Sometimes …

Temper Tantrum

Throwing a good old scream-and-cry-til-you-can’t-breathe temper tantrum would be so much fun. Well, maybe not fun, but re-energizing. You know, the kind where you just start windmilling your arms and your hands are balled up into fists and you pretty much go destructo on anything in your path. I hope the things in my path would be my roommates. That would make me happy.

It was so wonderful for so long to have this place to just the two of us and the hound. Even before that, with our amazing landlord and super-cool friend were the best roommates. We definitely got spoiled.

But now it’s stomping, door-slamming and general household malaise. I don’t know who’s on edge more: Me, or the dog. I dread coming home, but I’m too tired and in too much need of needing to do stuff that I can’t go anywhere else. I often want to go hide in my room, but it’s more often than not such a disaster the pure thought of holing up in there is purely frightening.

Grumble grumble grumble.

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