I think one of the main reasons I don't like blogging is because no one cares enough about the intimate details of my life to sit and read it. That is, except for Kristal. You'd almost think that with two kids and a dog she would have other things to do. I'm thinking she has joined the delusional, white-collar, soccer mom group who writes down everything she thinks is cute about her kids in hopes that everyone will see it for themselves. Even as I write this she is busy posting pictures and entertaining "quips" from her own life. (I really do love you, honey -- you are just very different than me!)
Not me.
Christmas is over, which is delightful. We had a five-day Christmas marathon, and my living room is still recovering from this fact. Get up, go to someone's house, come home, dump in the living room, go to sleep. Repeat x4. I also gained 7 pounds, which makes me wonder what would have happened if I had eaten everything I wanted to eat. I also received hundreds of small "things" that are cute, but only once or twice. Like a laser keychain. To think I have lived 33 years of my life without one.
Ok. Well its New Year's now, and I have to think of where this year is going to take us. For one, I will have to move to the hellhole of SheVegas. I look around this house that I love, and wonder how this is going to be possible for me to just leave.
Another thing is my constant pain. The doctors have actually had the GALL to label this "fibromyalgia". I don't even think this exists. My comforting theory about the "F" word thus far has been the following: people are only diagnosed with F after repeated trips to multiple doctors whining about pain. This has been a catch-all in my mind; a diagnosis given to people who want to be told there is something wrong with them, by doctors who don't want to see a certain patient ever again. The problem is that *I* was given this "diagnosis" after just an initial visit. So what does that mean for me? Physical therapy is a joke. The "butt sling" I have to wear is a joke. Dr. Pond thinks I need back surgery. Whatever.
And lastly, my career. I am certain that Mr. Marhol congratulates himself on having ruined this for me, but his congratulatory demeanor will probably disappear once he kills himself due to the overwhelming stress of being such a massive jacka*s. So I will work casually at OC and wait until he offs himself, then will go back to Plymouth.
And what of the kids? Benjamin loves his school, and it SICKENS me to the depths of my soul to have to pull him from the school and start over again at another one. My only consolation is that he may be able to attend Sheboygan Christian School now.
And what of my friends? After a lifetime of pushing people away so I would not have to be accountable to anyone, I have actually managed to maintain friendships on a mutual level. Leslie, Raeni, Jeannie. I'm sure there are more. And who do I have in Sheboygan? Michelle (who lives just as far away from the southside as she does Plymouth) and Jenny (who I love, and who lives five blocks from our prospective new house). I'm not comfortable with change. I don't want to move. At all.
Those are all the musings I have for today. I don't think I should use a blog as a "diary" because its on the internet, for heaven's sake; any schmuck can read it! I think I'll look for some pictures now.....
Not me.
Christmas is over, which is delightful. We had a five-day Christmas marathon, and my living room is still recovering from this fact. Get up, go to someone's house, come home, dump in the living room, go to sleep. Repeat x4. I also gained 7 pounds, which makes me wonder what would have happened if I had eaten everything I wanted to eat. I also received hundreds of small "things" that are cute, but only once or twice. Like a laser keychain. To think I have lived 33 years of my life without one.
Ok. Well its New Year's now, and I have to think of where this year is going to take us. For one, I will have to move to the hellhole of SheVegas. I look around this house that I love, and wonder how this is going to be possible for me to just leave.
Another thing is my constant pain. The doctors have actually had the GALL to label this "fibromyalgia". I don't even think this exists. My comforting theory about the "F" word thus far has been the following: people are only diagnosed with F after repeated trips to multiple doctors whining about pain. This has been a catch-all in my mind; a diagnosis given to people who want to be told there is something wrong with them, by doctors who don't want to see a certain patient ever again. The problem is that *I* was given this "diagnosis" after just an initial visit. So what does that mean for me? Physical therapy is a joke. The "butt sling" I have to wear is a joke. Dr. Pond thinks I need back surgery. Whatever.
And lastly, my career. I am certain that Mr. Marhol congratulates himself on having ruined this for me, but his congratulatory demeanor will probably disappear once he kills himself due to the overwhelming stress of being such a massive jacka*s. So I will work casually at OC and wait until he offs himself, then will go back to Plymouth.
And what of the kids? Benjamin loves his school, and it SICKENS me to the depths of my soul to have to pull him from the school and start over again at another one. My only consolation is that he may be able to attend Sheboygan Christian School now.
And what of my friends? After a lifetime of pushing people away so I would not have to be accountable to anyone, I have actually managed to maintain friendships on a mutual level. Leslie, Raeni, Jeannie. I'm sure there are more. And who do I have in Sheboygan? Michelle (who lives just as far away from the southside as she does Plymouth) and Jenny (who I love, and who lives five blocks from our prospective new house). I'm not comfortable with change. I don't want to move. At all.
Those are all the musings I have for today. I don't think I should use a blog as a "diary" because its on the internet, for heaven's sake; any schmuck can read it! I think I'll look for some pictures now.....
1 comment:
I think that you may want to begin to write down everything you think is cute about your kids in hopes that everyone will see it for themselves. You may even want to post pictures and entertaining "quips" from your life.
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