Monday, May 11, 2009
Massive Depression
Ugh. I just weighed myself for the first time in I don't even know how long. I am a chubby, chubby girl. I knew my weight range. I just didn't think it would be on on the high end. I need to make a change. But I'm afraid. I don't know what to do....I need a plan.
I've been Tagged!
I thought this was just an email thing, but apparently you can be tagged in blogs too! Who knew? Lauren from Mommy in Munchkin Land tagged me. And we all know that I have no life, so here I go:
Rules are as follows: 1) Mention the person who tagged you and be sure to link to them!2) Post your list of 8's3) Tag 8 bloggers and don't forget to tell them!
For the record, I do NOT have anyone to send this to after this...cause there's like two people who read this, if that. I know, sad. Here we go!
8 of my most favorite foods:
1- Turkey
2- Pizza
3- Salty Chips
4- Chicken fried rice
5- Popcorn
6- bbq chicken
7- lobster
8- crab
8 Things I Cherish
1- my family and friends and boyfriend
2- Benson
3- my pictures
4- my memories (the good ones...the bad ones can go to hell!!!)
5- a good nap
6- lots of time with a good book
7- fresh pepsi
8- fresh ocean air.
8 Ways I Kill Time
1- chatting on/ surfing the Internet
2- reading
3- Talking on the phone
4- watching tv
5- walking to the stores at the mini mall next to my apartment
6- playing with Benson
7- Cleaning/organizing
8- reading/writing emails
8 Shows I Watch
1- House
2- Deadliest Catch
3- Canada's Worst Handyman
4- Family Guy
5- Law and Order SVU
6- Law and Order
7- American Dad
8- Groomer Has It
8 Things to do before I die
1- Go the UK
2- See Greece
3- go back to Yellowstone
4- get a house with an ocean view
5- see Europe...ALL OF IT
6- learn to play something
7- write a book
8- go on another big road trip
8 Ways to make me Happy
1- leave me alone...alone time is good.
2- Bring me carnations
3- Take me for a boat drive
4- do the dishes
5- random gifts!
6- getting a letter, real mail rules
7- let me buy my stupid little things that I like
8- let me play with kittens
No tagging :(
Rules are as follows: 1) Mention the person who tagged you and be sure to link to them!2) Post your list of 8's3) Tag 8 bloggers and don't forget to tell them!
For the record, I do NOT have anyone to send this to after this...cause there's like two people who read this, if that. I know, sad. Here we go!
8 of my most favorite foods:
1- Turkey
2- Pizza
3- Salty Chips
4- Chicken fried rice
5- Popcorn
6- bbq chicken
7- lobster
8- crab
8 Things I Cherish
1- my family and friends and boyfriend
2- Benson
3- my pictures
4- my memories (the good ones...the bad ones can go to hell!!!)
5- a good nap
6- lots of time with a good book
7- fresh pepsi
8- fresh ocean air.
8 Ways I Kill Time
1- chatting on/ surfing the Internet
2- reading
3- Talking on the phone
4- watching tv
5- walking to the stores at the mini mall next to my apartment
6- playing with Benson
7- Cleaning/organizing
8- reading/writing emails
8 Shows I Watch
1- House
2- Deadliest Catch
3- Canada's Worst Handyman
4- Family Guy
5- Law and Order SVU
6- Law and Order
7- American Dad
8- Groomer Has It
8 Things to do before I die
1- Go the UK
2- See Greece
3- go back to Yellowstone
4- get a house with an ocean view
5- see Europe...ALL OF IT
6- learn to play something
7- write a book
8- go on another big road trip
8 Ways to make me Happy
1- leave me alone...alone time is good.
2- Bring me carnations
3- Take me for a boat drive
4- do the dishes
5- random gifts!
6- getting a letter, real mail rules
7- let me buy my stupid little things that I like
8- let me play with kittens
No tagging :(
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Clenched Teeth
Sometimes I wonder why I bother. Honestly.
My back has been killing me like crazy, interrupting my sleep, etc. We also had an overflowing hamper of dirty clothes. We're going home on the weekend, so I will do most of the laundry for free, but the boy's uniform had to be washed, so I put in our towels, socks, underwear, stuff like that. I sorted everything, put it in the hamper and gave it to him to take. Naturally it didn't happen right away. He finally went up and put it in the laundry.
I was really, really sore and tired this afternoon, so after a bit, I went to have a nap. I reminded him THREE times that the laundry would be ready to go into the dryer very soon. THREE times.
After laying in bed and having Benson try to fit my entire hand and arm into his mouth a few times, I did manage to sleep for a bit. I stayed in bed a bit longer, as my back was sore, and I was really hot and enjoying the fan on my face. I got out of bed, and saw the hamper in the exact same place. I sighed every so deeply.
He was sitting in the recliner, with his computer glued to his lap as usual and I said in as nice a voice as I could manage "You didn't go get the laundry?" and his reply, which was not at all a surprise, "Oh shit, I forgot it!" Really??? Fucking shocking! So he got up and ran up stairs to put it in. Yeah, no driers free. It's Sunday. He was lucky to get a washer free. It's things like this that makes me hate him just a little bit. Why can't he remember? He sighs and gets mad when I remind him things over and over again, because I'm nagging him or whatever. But OBVIOUSLY he's a child and needs to be nagged. Jesus. I could kill him. So now my laundry is just sitting up there, waiting to go into a free dryer. And my jaw hurts because I'm clenching my teeth so hard and not saying anything. And he knows I'm mad since he did the dishes, which he NEVER does.
Argh!!!
As a side note, I'm sorry that this blog has turned into a total bitch fest, but there's like only one reader, and she knows I'm a bitch, so it's all good.
My back has been killing me like crazy, interrupting my sleep, etc. We also had an overflowing hamper of dirty clothes. We're going home on the weekend, so I will do most of the laundry for free, but the boy's uniform had to be washed, so I put in our towels, socks, underwear, stuff like that. I sorted everything, put it in the hamper and gave it to him to take. Naturally it didn't happen right away. He finally went up and put it in the laundry.
I was really, really sore and tired this afternoon, so after a bit, I went to have a nap. I reminded him THREE times that the laundry would be ready to go into the dryer very soon. THREE times.
After laying in bed and having Benson try to fit my entire hand and arm into his mouth a few times, I did manage to sleep for a bit. I stayed in bed a bit longer, as my back was sore, and I was really hot and enjoying the fan on my face. I got out of bed, and saw the hamper in the exact same place. I sighed every so deeply.
He was sitting in the recliner, with his computer glued to his lap as usual and I said in as nice a voice as I could manage "You didn't go get the laundry?" and his reply, which was not at all a surprise, "Oh shit, I forgot it!" Really??? Fucking shocking! So he got up and ran up stairs to put it in. Yeah, no driers free. It's Sunday. He was lucky to get a washer free. It's things like this that makes me hate him just a little bit. Why can't he remember? He sighs and gets mad when I remind him things over and over again, because I'm nagging him or whatever. But OBVIOUSLY he's a child and needs to be nagged. Jesus. I could kill him. So now my laundry is just sitting up there, waiting to go into a free dryer. And my jaw hurts because I'm clenching my teeth so hard and not saying anything. And he knows I'm mad since he did the dishes, which he NEVER does.
Argh!!!
As a side note, I'm sorry that this blog has turned into a total bitch fest, but there's like only one reader, and she knows I'm a bitch, so it's all good.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Tired
I am sitting here, in my somewhat less messy apartment, feeling much better about my dining room.
Since we moved here, there was one wall of our dining room that was completely covered, nearly head high, with bins and boxes. They have slowly been chipped away at, over time. But there were many stubborn boxes that just refused to be dealt with. They were all the boys, filled with things I can't quite believe he spent money on moving across the country, vhs tapes, audio tapes, empty dvd cases, old text books (Yes, I myself have kept text books, but I was an English major, so I kept my poetry books, etc) that he's never going to use again. But that's fine, I guess. Except that he wouldn't move them. Yeah, he's been busy, I get that. But there are weekends. And there are plenty of days that he's not doing anything at his stay at home job.
DOESN'T MATTER. I took care of it. As per usual. The boxes are gone. Now the only box in the dining room is the one that is going to good will asap. I feel like I have a bit of order back in my life. Sure, the bedroom closets are now stuffed beyond capacity with random boxes and bins, but that's what closet doors are for! No one needs to know. My next job will be to try to curb Rob's disgusting side of the bed. He just drops everything by the bed and leaves it there. It drives me crazy. I'm the type of person that doesn't mind a little bit of clutter in the bedroom, but this is getting out of hand. I will try once again to have a talk with him. Maybe I'll try not to cry this time. Though last time it seemed to work a little bit.
I am very tired from moving all of those boxes. And I'm tired anyway, not sleeping well because of my weird back problems. Fine during the day, but as soon as I lay down for a bit, it hurts like hell. I've been waking up around 4 in the morning in intense pain. I get up, take some drugs, heat up my heating pad, go back to sleep until about 6 or 6:30, in more pain. Heating up my heating pad didn't work this time. I got up before 7 and ate some cereal, farted around on the computer, and went back to bed just after 8. My back still hurt a bit, but not as much, and I was able to get a couple more hours of sleep. Yes, this means I "slept in", but really, if you add up all the hours I was actually sleeping, it was just a regular night's sleep. So I don't feel bad about it at all. Yeah, I know, I'll eventually go to the doctors. It would be nice if I had some insurance though.
I would like to sit here and enjoy my tidy dining room, but I have a feeling I'll be doing a few more things before I settle in for the night. The fun never ends.
Since we moved here, there was one wall of our dining room that was completely covered, nearly head high, with bins and boxes. They have slowly been chipped away at, over time. But there were many stubborn boxes that just refused to be dealt with. They were all the boys, filled with things I can't quite believe he spent money on moving across the country, vhs tapes, audio tapes, empty dvd cases, old text books (Yes, I myself have kept text books, but I was an English major, so I kept my poetry books, etc) that he's never going to use again. But that's fine, I guess. Except that he wouldn't move them. Yeah, he's been busy, I get that. But there are weekends. And there are plenty of days that he's not doing anything at his stay at home job.
DOESN'T MATTER. I took care of it. As per usual. The boxes are gone. Now the only box in the dining room is the one that is going to good will asap. I feel like I have a bit of order back in my life. Sure, the bedroom closets are now stuffed beyond capacity with random boxes and bins, but that's what closet doors are for! No one needs to know. My next job will be to try to curb Rob's disgusting side of the bed. He just drops everything by the bed and leaves it there. It drives me crazy. I'm the type of person that doesn't mind a little bit of clutter in the bedroom, but this is getting out of hand. I will try once again to have a talk with him. Maybe I'll try not to cry this time. Though last time it seemed to work a little bit.
I am very tired from moving all of those boxes. And I'm tired anyway, not sleeping well because of my weird back problems. Fine during the day, but as soon as I lay down for a bit, it hurts like hell. I've been waking up around 4 in the morning in intense pain. I get up, take some drugs, heat up my heating pad, go back to sleep until about 6 or 6:30, in more pain. Heating up my heating pad didn't work this time. I got up before 7 and ate some cereal, farted around on the computer, and went back to bed just after 8. My back still hurt a bit, but not as much, and I was able to get a couple more hours of sleep. Yes, this means I "slept in", but really, if you add up all the hours I was actually sleeping, it was just a regular night's sleep. So I don't feel bad about it at all. Yeah, I know, I'll eventually go to the doctors. It would be nice if I had some insurance though.
I would like to sit here and enjoy my tidy dining room, but I have a feeling I'll be doing a few more things before I settle in for the night. The fun never ends.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Minor Break Downs are Fun!
I had a job interview today at 4. After spending the morning/early afternoon doing laundry, dishes, organizing things, I started to get ready. You already know my whole button popping clothing issues I was having when i was getting ready for the interview. Well, I found something to wear, and was doing my hair and makeup. I don't wear makeup very often, but it was a shock to me when I realized my new foundation (about 25 bucks or more, which is A LOT for me to spend on makeup) was missing from my purse. No were to be found. It had to have fallen out. I lost my mind. I seriously did. I cried, I ranted...I asked what was the point of my life if every little thing I do is a total and complete struggle? Ugh. It was not my finest hour.
Anyway, I had a tiny bit of foundation left in a different bottle, and was able to make it work. I know it's not a huge deal, I know that. It didn't stop me from going nuts though.
I did the interview. The first half went well, the second half sucked. We'll see I guess, fingers crossed.
Anyway, I had a tiny bit of foundation left in a different bottle, and was able to make it work. I know it's not a huge deal, I know that. It didn't stop me from going nuts though.
I did the interview. The first half went well, the second half sucked. We'll see I guess, fingers crossed.
Wow, I suck
Last post December 20th. Wow. Way to go Lacey, good job. Here we go again. I think I really have to at least make an effort to keep this up, because writing has always had a very important hand in keeping me (somewhat) sane. I feel better when I get things out, when I can see the words that have been flying around in my head.
The last thing I wrote about was my Grampy's funeral. Happy thoughts. Let's continue with that for just a bit. Christmas was awful. It wasn't the same without him at all. Thankfully Meghan kept everyone pretty happy when she was around...she is so expressive, a true drama queen in the making. She had a wonderful time. Rob proposed to me on Christmas. I wish he had waited. I was already rocking from Grampy's death and my first Christmas at home in years which didn't exactly go as planned. I couldn't give it my happiness. I tried, and failed miserably. He felt bad, everyone couldn't understand why I pretty much hid the ring. It just wasn't the right time for it...
Anyway, I got through it. I'm in no way planning a wedding. I can't. I get too stressed out just thinking about it, and honestly, I wouldn't care if I got married at all, next year or in ten years. It's just not that big of a deal for me. Part of the reason is Grampy. I just assumed he'd be there, you know? Unlike my Poppy who passed away a few years ago, Grampy was always so full of life, and he fully intended to try to live forever, so, it was just expected that he would be there, beaming because he was so happy and proud, and even though I don't dance, I would have danced with him that day...but that's not going to happen now, and it saddens me so much.
Another reason is how incredibly fat I am. I hate my body, but I can't seem to get on the right track to do anything to change it. I just tried on my spring/summer dress shirts this morning, as I have a job interview in a few hours. Thought maybe I could pull out a nice shirt and at least TRY to look nice, though a huge blob of a person never looks nice, not really. Yeah. None of them fit. Oh, I could get them on. I could do up the buttons, but they were nearly popping. I shouldn't have even tried. Now I'm even more depressed. I feel like crying, but what's the point? I'm fat. End of story. And I'm always going to be fat, because I don't have the willpower to change that, and I refuse to be the fattest girl at my wedding. And I refuse to have a million pictures to remember myself as a white ball. Not gonna happen. No way, no how.
Oh, there are other reasons why I'm in no hurry to get married. Money for one. That's a big one I guess. And I often wonder if Rob and I will be ok married. We fight like cats and dogs as it is. I cracked this weekend about the mess he leaves EVERYWHERE he goes in the apartment. He told me he's trying and I nearly bit my tongue off. I'd hate to see what not trying looks like. Seriously. So he said he would try harder, and yeah, the first day, he did the dishes, and he tried to help with the boxes of junk still in the dining room. Yeah, now the junk is just spread all over the apartment. I'm going to lose it again, I know it, and you know what? I just don't care anymore. So be it. I made myself clear, he knows where I stand. I told him that I refused to be in a marriage like my parents. I love my parents, but there are parts of them that I hate. They were (still are half the time) miserable when we were growing up. Mom would freak out at everyone because she thought she got no help. And when I did try to help I got screamed at. No wonder I was a crier back in the day. I'm not going to become that angry, sad, screaming woman. She is already in there, trying to come out every chance she gets, and I'm not going to give her a constant outlet.
I feel more like Rob and I are roommates lately. We really don't act like a couple anymore. We've even been sleeping in separate rooms because he's been sick for two weeks now, coughing all night. I'm really enjoying the sleeping alone, except for the horribly sore back I get after laying down for a few hours...not really sure what's going on there, but it isn't fun. I guess I'm going to have to go bite the bullet and actually go to the doctors soon. I hate the doctor. Well, I like my doctor as a person, but hate doctors in general.
I have an interview today. I was a temp for two months at an office like a five minute drive away from my apartment. Would have been perfect, but I was told that they don't hire temps. Which is stupid if you ask me, but whatever. So now I have an interview for a job today at 4pm. It's in Bedford, so it'd be a sucky long bus ride that will make me cranky and want to kill myself, but it's a job. I need to have a job and make some money. Fingers crossed. They probably won't hire me because I'm so fat. Not getting my hopes up.
God, I'm a cheerful person aren't I? I am in all likely hood depressed again, but whatever. Been living with that for over ten years now, I think I can live with it longer.
I guess I should mention that we got a kitten and named him Benson. I love him, but I also hate him half the time. I don't think I should ever have kids. I'm pretty sure I'll be one of those mothers that drowns their kids in the bathtub because I snapped. Seriously. This is a serious worry for me.
Ok, I'm going to end this epic post now. I'll be sure to post the rejection and anger I feel when I don't get the job...ah, nothing like a positive outlook!
Does anyone even read this thing anymore?
The last thing I wrote about was my Grampy's funeral. Happy thoughts. Let's continue with that for just a bit. Christmas was awful. It wasn't the same without him at all. Thankfully Meghan kept everyone pretty happy when she was around...she is so expressive, a true drama queen in the making. She had a wonderful time. Rob proposed to me on Christmas. I wish he had waited. I was already rocking from Grampy's death and my first Christmas at home in years which didn't exactly go as planned. I couldn't give it my happiness. I tried, and failed miserably. He felt bad, everyone couldn't understand why I pretty much hid the ring. It just wasn't the right time for it...
Anyway, I got through it. I'm in no way planning a wedding. I can't. I get too stressed out just thinking about it, and honestly, I wouldn't care if I got married at all, next year or in ten years. It's just not that big of a deal for me. Part of the reason is Grampy. I just assumed he'd be there, you know? Unlike my Poppy who passed away a few years ago, Grampy was always so full of life, and he fully intended to try to live forever, so, it was just expected that he would be there, beaming because he was so happy and proud, and even though I don't dance, I would have danced with him that day...but that's not going to happen now, and it saddens me so much.
Another reason is how incredibly fat I am. I hate my body, but I can't seem to get on the right track to do anything to change it. I just tried on my spring/summer dress shirts this morning, as I have a job interview in a few hours. Thought maybe I could pull out a nice shirt and at least TRY to look nice, though a huge blob of a person never looks nice, not really. Yeah. None of them fit. Oh, I could get them on. I could do up the buttons, but they were nearly popping. I shouldn't have even tried. Now I'm even more depressed. I feel like crying, but what's the point? I'm fat. End of story. And I'm always going to be fat, because I don't have the willpower to change that, and I refuse to be the fattest girl at my wedding. And I refuse to have a million pictures to remember myself as a white ball. Not gonna happen. No way, no how.
Oh, there are other reasons why I'm in no hurry to get married. Money for one. That's a big one I guess. And I often wonder if Rob and I will be ok married. We fight like cats and dogs as it is. I cracked this weekend about the mess he leaves EVERYWHERE he goes in the apartment. He told me he's trying and I nearly bit my tongue off. I'd hate to see what not trying looks like. Seriously. So he said he would try harder, and yeah, the first day, he did the dishes, and he tried to help with the boxes of junk still in the dining room. Yeah, now the junk is just spread all over the apartment. I'm going to lose it again, I know it, and you know what? I just don't care anymore. So be it. I made myself clear, he knows where I stand. I told him that I refused to be in a marriage like my parents. I love my parents, but there are parts of them that I hate. They were (still are half the time) miserable when we were growing up. Mom would freak out at everyone because she thought she got no help. And when I did try to help I got screamed at. No wonder I was a crier back in the day. I'm not going to become that angry, sad, screaming woman. She is already in there, trying to come out every chance she gets, and I'm not going to give her a constant outlet.
I feel more like Rob and I are roommates lately. We really don't act like a couple anymore. We've even been sleeping in separate rooms because he's been sick for two weeks now, coughing all night. I'm really enjoying the sleeping alone, except for the horribly sore back I get after laying down for a few hours...not really sure what's going on there, but it isn't fun. I guess I'm going to have to go bite the bullet and actually go to the doctors soon. I hate the doctor. Well, I like my doctor as a person, but hate doctors in general.
I have an interview today. I was a temp for two months at an office like a five minute drive away from my apartment. Would have been perfect, but I was told that they don't hire temps. Which is stupid if you ask me, but whatever. So now I have an interview for a job today at 4pm. It's in Bedford, so it'd be a sucky long bus ride that will make me cranky and want to kill myself, but it's a job. I need to have a job and make some money. Fingers crossed. They probably won't hire me because I'm so fat. Not getting my hopes up.
God, I'm a cheerful person aren't I? I am in all likely hood depressed again, but whatever. Been living with that for over ten years now, I think I can live with it longer.
I guess I should mention that we got a kitten and named him Benson. I love him, but I also hate him half the time. I don't think I should ever have kids. I'm pretty sure I'll be one of those mothers that drowns their kids in the bathtub because I snapped. Seriously. This is a serious worry for me.
Ok, I'm going to end this epic post now. I'll be sure to post the rejection and anger I feel when I don't get the job...ah, nothing like a positive outlook!
Does anyone even read this thing anymore?
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