philosophy at age eight

“If you cannot control your peanut butter, you cannot expect to control your life.”
~ Judah-ism

Friday, July 16, 2010

stir-fry, stir-crazy...

If I snap at one more person today, I'm going to have to put an end to my misery and stick my head down the toilet to drown. It's been 23 days since my surgery, and I am still house-bound, facing another week before my doctor re-evaluates whether or not I can escape these crutches I am consigned to. I am so irritable and stir-crazy, I could scream.  I can't go out strolling, walking, see the beach, take pictures of the beautiful flowers finally blooming in our yard... can't go basic shopping for real food (sorry, Johnny, no offense, but I want something besides ramen, rice and stir-fried whatever-is-in-the-fridge!), can't go to work, can't see a movie or meet with friends... I am officially sick of it! 

Johnny is trying, but I'm a real burden, at this point. He puts roses in my grandmother's vase for me, takes pictures of it to post here when I ask; tries to keep me fed and even pampers me with chocolate, and I repay him by snapping and moaning constantly.

Life is barely worth living. I don't want to see anyone. The phone battery is never charged when I need it for work---why the hell did I ever decide to have kids and who said they could be teenagers at the same time?! I can't bring myself caffeine. I can't pick up trash around the house (and that pisses me off). Whine whine, grouse grouse.

 Honestly? I'm bringing it online so I can get it out of my system, and hopefully leave my poor family alone. 

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