I feel like a combination of George Bailey and Holden Caulfield today. Translation: I'm suffering from I hate the world-itis. It's been a fun week for me and by fun I mean miserable. I like to toss around the word fun like its a good thing when really it means I want to take a blow torch to my face. Obviously, I'm exaggerating because I have a job, a roof over my head and people that love me so life is fine really. I'm just having one of those weeks where I'm throwing myself a pity party complete with peppermint stick ice cream and egg nog.
It all started on Sunday when a vegetable peeler took off a slice of my middle finger. Standing over the kitchen sink watching blood gush into it, I knew I needed stitches. Then I heard the voice of my father who was a medic in the Korean war and my go to for all things injury related.
Me: "Dad, what do you think, do I need stitches?"
Dad (shaking his head and frowning): "Nah,"
How could I ignore such sage advice? So I listened to that imaginary voice of my childhood, slapped a band aid over it and hoped for the best. Three days later I can barely type this as it still hurts like hell but is healing. This means no yoga until it heals and that kinda sucks. That was unfortunate event #1. Next up, I'm toasting an English muffin and when its done I go to grab it with my good hand and I burn it so now I have injuries on both hands. Awesome. Just call me gimpy. Then I pick up a shift at work on Tuesday only to go in and have zero appointments so I proceed to stand around for 3 hours with nothing to do until they mercifully send me home. Now, don't get me wrong I am certainly not complaining about having a job after my prolonged stint at unemployment but anyone who knows me knows that when I'm not being productive, I get very antsy and me antsy is an ugly site. Today: I wake up this morning to pouring rain. I put on the latest episode of "The Biggest Loser" and proceed to cry, no not cry - sob through the entire thing. It has to be PMS because while I do get emotional watching a 66 year old man run a marathon when I have clients whining about lifting 5 pound dumbbells, it is hardly grounds for an excessive crying fit. Then like in a B level comedy, on my way to work, I step in 3 puddles, get splashed on by asshole drivers and get on the bus only to receive a text message from my boss telling me to stay home because its really slow at the gym (apparently no one wants to work out in the month of December). I don't know if I started laughing or crying or both but I swear I heard that super cheesy one hit wonder song, "you had a bad day" playing like a soundtrack in the background.
To top it all off, I chose to stay clear of alcohol for the month of December. Now, I'm not an alcoholic by any means but I do enjoy wine at dinner or a cocktail on the weekend but lately even one drink has left me feeling shitty so I'm giving it up for now. Instead of stopping for wine on the way home today, I stopped at Starbucks for a peppermint mocha. Yeah me, right? not so fast. I ordered the skinny version thinking it meant that they use skim milk but when I took my first sip I realized that skinny meant they used artificial flavorings. Now, few things in this world make me angrier than artificial flavoring - it is disgusting and actually unhealthy for you. I tried powering through the drink but grimaced after every sip. The nerve Starbucks has charging me 4 bucks and change for that crap! I tossed it in the nearest trash can and kept walking.
Oh, and I almost left out my crappy reading experience this week. I'll admit that lately I've been reading real junk. My Mom gives me these mystery novels she loves every time I go home and they are hit or miss. Sometimes I will find one I really enjoy and keeps me interested but mostly with these types of books, you get predictable endings and mediocre writing. Its ok though because I never expect much. Well, last night I stayed up late to finish one that I had, up until the end been enjoying. The last chapter was the most improbable, ridiculous conclusion and it just made me angry. I guess this is a sign to get back to my quest - to pick up another classic and immerse myself in the beauty of good writing and storytelling once more.
Any suggestions???
It all started on Sunday when a vegetable peeler took off a slice of my middle finger. Standing over the kitchen sink watching blood gush into it, I knew I needed stitches. Then I heard the voice of my father who was a medic in the Korean war and my go to for all things injury related.
Me: "Dad, what do you think, do I need stitches?"
Dad (shaking his head and frowning): "Nah,"
How could I ignore such sage advice? So I listened to that imaginary voice of my childhood, slapped a band aid over it and hoped for the best. Three days later I can barely type this as it still hurts like hell but is healing. This means no yoga until it heals and that kinda sucks. That was unfortunate event #1. Next up, I'm toasting an English muffin and when its done I go to grab it with my good hand and I burn it so now I have injuries on both hands. Awesome. Just call me gimpy. Then I pick up a shift at work on Tuesday only to go in and have zero appointments so I proceed to stand around for 3 hours with nothing to do until they mercifully send me home. Now, don't get me wrong I am certainly not complaining about having a job after my prolonged stint at unemployment but anyone who knows me knows that when I'm not being productive, I get very antsy and me antsy is an ugly site. Today: I wake up this morning to pouring rain. I put on the latest episode of "The Biggest Loser" and proceed to cry, no not cry - sob through the entire thing. It has to be PMS because while I do get emotional watching a 66 year old man run a marathon when I have clients whining about lifting 5 pound dumbbells, it is hardly grounds for an excessive crying fit. Then like in a B level comedy, on my way to work, I step in 3 puddles, get splashed on by asshole drivers and get on the bus only to receive a text message from my boss telling me to stay home because its really slow at the gym (apparently no one wants to work out in the month of December). I don't know if I started laughing or crying or both but I swear I heard that super cheesy one hit wonder song, "you had a bad day" playing like a soundtrack in the background.
To top it all off, I chose to stay clear of alcohol for the month of December. Now, I'm not an alcoholic by any means but I do enjoy wine at dinner or a cocktail on the weekend but lately even one drink has left me feeling shitty so I'm giving it up for now. Instead of stopping for wine on the way home today, I stopped at Starbucks for a peppermint mocha. Yeah me, right? not so fast. I ordered the skinny version thinking it meant that they use skim milk but when I took my first sip I realized that skinny meant they used artificial flavorings. Now, few things in this world make me angrier than artificial flavoring - it is disgusting and actually unhealthy for you. I tried powering through the drink but grimaced after every sip. The nerve Starbucks has charging me 4 bucks and change for that crap! I tossed it in the nearest trash can and kept walking.
Oh, and I almost left out my crappy reading experience this week. I'll admit that lately I've been reading real junk. My Mom gives me these mystery novels she loves every time I go home and they are hit or miss. Sometimes I will find one I really enjoy and keeps me interested but mostly with these types of books, you get predictable endings and mediocre writing. Its ok though because I never expect much. Well, last night I stayed up late to finish one that I had, up until the end been enjoying. The last chapter was the most improbable, ridiculous conclusion and it just made me angry. I guess this is a sign to get back to my quest - to pick up another classic and immerse myself in the beauty of good writing and storytelling once more.
Any suggestions???
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