Wish I could be just a little less dramatic
Like a Kennedy when Camelot went down in flames
– Miranda Lambert
Have you ever Google’d everything that seems to be wrong with yourself?
Have you ever sat down and just WebMD’d the shit out of everything your body is going through?
Apparently, I have bad posture, I drink too much, I eat too late, and I’ve been pregnant for the last two-ish years. My fried food intake is sky-high, I don’t drink enough water, and I haven’t been assuming the proper sleeping position at all. However, fear not, my friends… it’s nothing that a little acupuncture, a couplea bubble baths, and some apple cider vinegar can’t cure.
This is where I’m at people.
That’s right, the ol’ hypochondriac-ing for fun trick… or what I like to call, Ailment Roulette, if you will. The highlight of my day is stumbling across possible remedies for chronic headaches, or sleep deprivation, or acid re-flux. And then, I forget about everything I’ve read before I can remember to try it out.
Sweet Jesus I’m boring.
Every day is the same.
Lately, at work, I’ve been feeling useless. The project I have been assigned to isn’t filling the 40-hour void I am faced with each week. It is repetitive, and tedious, and tiring. I feel as if I am spinning my wheels. A job I once loved, is now just that – a job. I come in everyday and stare at the tiny little clock in the corner of my computer screen, praying for it to read 5:00 p.m. But why? I am just as overwhelmed, restless, and tired when I reach home.
Every night is the same.
I am greeted by an excited little hound dog. A Sonny-dog who has missed his Momma all day long. I rush inside to feed him, pet him, and ask him about his day. And then I’m stuck. I walk aimlessly around my new house. I wander from room to room hoping the piles of shoes, and clothes, and books, and pictures will motivate me… but then I grow discouraged, and irritated, and defeated. Usually, I settle on taking a shower-bath, a Hotpocket, and a few episodes of Game of Thrones. Then my sweet nugget and I lock up and head off to bed.
Okay, so maybe I am being a tish dramatic. Not every day and night is that pathetic. Sometimes, Sonny and I go visit his GrandNanny (Momma), or maybe Mr. Big will come over, and every now and again I meet up with Joan, Ashleigh, and Kaley for dinner and a gossip session. But typically, my weekdays are rather boring.
The excitement of the new house has warn off. It’s getting expensive, and time consuming, and stagnant. Every project seems to have a major set back. Take my office, for instance: yeah, it’s a closet now. The room I had dubbed “Miss Clariss Headquarters” is now a loading and unloading zone for all things wearable. Or what about the new bathroom lights Momma and I tried to install? A mess. Whoever installed the original light fixtures cut holes the size of my head above my bathroom mirrors. Great. I’m no drywallologist. Just what the hell am I supposed to do with head-sized holes in my walls?
So, I do nothing.
I do nothing except sit by the lake at work to keep myself awake, and WebMD shit to entertain myself, and watch whole seasons of television series’ to occupy my time. I do these things when I should be:
- Organizing my home
- Teaching myself to be a Miss Fix-it
- Finding a new position that makes me happier at Big Blue Box
- Cooking… instead of microwaving
- Reading… instead of watching
- Playing with my puppy outside… instead of in the hallway
- Preparing myself for the drive to Charleston tonight
- Packing for our trip to Punta Cana next week
- Printing pictures off for my walls
- Writing blogs
- Figuring out how I can wash clothes in my ghetto ass washer and dryer
- Learning how to plant flowers
- Washing my car
- Washing my dog
- Thanking God for what I have instead of asking for things I think I am missing.