I feel lumpy and my hair won’t sit right. Maybe it’s the fact that I drank too much last or that I got my IUD taken out on Friday. Maybe it’s the constant stream of thoughts about the house, Nathan leaving, work, ignoring work, thinking about projects, feeling like I should go for a run, feeling like I wish I felt better about how I look right now because that’s how a feminist woman should feel, hating that these pants ride down and don’t look right. This is the problem, right here. Too much thoughts, thinking, constantly streaming through my brain. I can’t stop it. I bounce from thing to thing, and each moment there is a new emergency, a new tone, a new resolution, a new list. Maybe if I just wrote them down things would stop, or rest, maybe for just an hour. Maybe so I could get something done without thinking of 15 things to do after, instead of, etc. I should use less commas. It’s always been a problem of mine though, the overuse of commas. The steady flow of things, never the complete stop. Can’t stop, won’t stop. Sorry not sorry.
I always feel like I should start a blog, and I have, many times, 5 to be exact (there are those commas again). Then I tell myself that I should just journal because who the fuck cares about my piddly stupid white girl problems. My life has the same amount of drama and interest of a bullfrog sitting contentedly on a log that is slowly moving down a stream (why do I keep talking about streams and flows and water?!) WAH! My husband voluntarily signed up for the National Guard with not only my blessing but with my encouragement and now I’m sad he’s leaving for 5 months. WAH! I bought a house and now I am really overwhelmed with making it a home. WAH! I have so much work to do that I don’t know where to start because my job is autonomous and there is no one giving me a clear map of what to do and when. WAH! My husband and I are excited to start our family but I have to wait until March to try to get pregnant because of aforementioned National Guard Boot Camp/Tech school. WAH! I want to be in better shape and lose a little more weight but I’m so lazy and can’t stop eating tortilla chips like I was never going to eat anything ever again. Don’t you feel so sad and sorry for me? Oh damn. I can hear exactly the amount of fucks anyone would give about those things. *crickets* Yeah. Zero.
But you know what? I’ll probably do it anyway because since I've tried 5 times I obviously don’t listen to myself and also I like the attention. Because Gemini. Because youngest child. Because *insert reason here*. As mentioned before catchy, hip phrases and internet lingo, miley cyrus. Can’t stop, won’t stop. SUPER Sorry, not sorry though.
I am not a special snowflake. I am not remarkable. I am not even interesting. I have normal people problems that seem like huge, obnoxious problems because they impact me. Oh sure I worry about things that are big. Hunger, disease, war, etc. I happen to be cursed with an overly empathetic personality and I internalize a lot of really negative shit from said big things that I cannot fix or help or stop. Which is super useful and constructive, obviously. Don’t you see all my Nobel prizes? Yeah. Nope. I just get sad and weepy about things and give a pittance of money to things I can give too and then I look at pictures of babies or puppies and try to forget. Because I’m an entitled asshole and have the luxury of internet and no risk of bombs killing me or Ebola or junk. The end.
Yup. Pretty standard set of stuff from a 27 year old normcore afficionado from PDX. Minute problems and a whole lot of whining. But they are my problems and my whining and I have to deal with them. Right now. I want to stop them. I want to control them. I want to feel a little less like there is a giant time clock positioned over my head ominously ticking down the minutes to the next huge hurdle in my normcorey, mostly lucky life. I want to do yoga and be quiet and enjoy feeling centered and calm for more than 2 seconds. I want to accomplish real fitness goals and feel confident with my body while I prepare to conceive and birth the child I have longed for and planned and anticipated so so much. I want to never have to say goodbye to Nathan for more than 48 hours (yes, codependent, no not in that way, really just like each other a lot) but really would like to not have to say goodbye for 5 months. I would really like to eat kale and zucchini and healthy shit everyday and be joyful and fulfilled by it, but really would like to eat french fries and pizza and tortilla chips and beans by the boatload and just not gain oodles of weight and feel like a Goodyear blimp.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Obviously I've got 99 problems and there are many of them exhibited here though none of them are particularly interesting.
Here’s a current list of things I’m not:
Fashionable
Overly successful
Intriguing
Struggling with real problems
Pregnant
Fit
In control of my appetite
Healthy eater
Interesting
Content
Calm
Minimalist
Here’s a current list of things I am:
In great need of a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese
Stressed
Frantic
Hungry
Antsy
Happy
Distracted
Excited
Contemplative
Bloated
In conclusion…
The End.
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