“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


In Which I Whine & Complain

It's been one of those days following one of those nights, you know the kind, the kind where everything just feels annoying, your skin too thin. It has nothing to do with anything, not really, just the night before. A night not too bad except I made it that way.

A phone call yesterday, late afternoon, an ambulance called for my mother, I second guessing last Thursday night when she'd told me of fatigue and shortness of breath, now worried it was another heart attack, thankful my brother was with her. I finished a few things at work, counted my breaths, held my panic at bay with distraction and drugs. A half hour for me, I'm ashamed to admit, but a half hour well spent, a half hour needed, time to move with my anxiety, sitting with it not an option, sitting with it an invitation to come out, come out, wherever it was. Time to allow my brother to take over the role I always play, the responsible one, the indispensable one, time for a curtain call, a last bow, an adios, see you later, time to move away from being the-one-they-always-call. The right move, he was fine, she was fine, a case of vertigo, an inner ear infection, she was home by nine.

I was home before then, home to Maggie, then asleep on the couch, anxiety gone, Ativan giving me rest, but today the effects lingered. The idea of Facebook seemed stupid, people's thoughts ridiculous; I questioned why I even bothered checking, everyone so cheery, just an act I told myself. The news nothing but iPads and Tiger Woods and Dancing With the Stars and Stella McCartney $600 vegan shoes styled after Birkenstocks and just ridiculousness, and I felt righteous about my bad mood because truly, who could disagree that iPads are unnecessary and wrong in an economy where people cannot afford health insurance, because only the well-to-do will be able to afford them, and where is the fairness in that? I was quite snide, I sighed a great deal, quite loudly, muttered sarcastic remarks to the television, to myself, to the internet, to Maggie, read blogs I knew would irritate me, sent not-nice thoughts to a blogger who bragged about leaving anonymous comments on others' blogs, a teaching moment, she indicated to her readers - a cowardly moment, I thought to myself. At lunch, no food would do, a common problem, my bad lunch-karma growing ever bigger daily, my search for somewhere quiet useless; today I wanted nothing, just a Coke I told the ever-wonderful and increasingly patient Michael, please don't make me order anything I said as he scoured the menu for something I might like - look, pasta salad, he said, no, I replied, it's all creamy, I don't do creamy, you know that, and the hamburger is 1/2 pound, I can't eat that, and they probably won't let me order the child's burger, but he asked and they would - mustard, no onions, I told the waitress. When my order showed up, delivered not by the waitress, just a dry bun with meat, I shoved it away, refusing even a bite, ordering Michael to not leave a tip, because he always leaves a tip, no matter how bad the service has been, but he flagged down the waitress, she brought mustard, lettuce, and tomatoes, and I made the burger, eating it with no joy, thinking a meal should never be eaten this way. On the way home he bought me a Reese's dark chocolate peanut butter cup. It was fabulous, and I could've eaten 3 or 4 more.

All better for less than a buck and no tip.
thank you baby


  1. and I thought I was alone when it came to days and well, nights like that...

    I'm glad your mom is okay !

  2. Oh honey, I know those days. When I positively revel in my bitchiness and see how far I can test everyone. Next time, just go right for the chocolate :-)

  3. Oh my gosh, that is exactly how I have been feeling these past few days, and I've no idea why but you just described it all exactly and then of course dark chocolate reese's are the best thing ever, ever!
    My husband calls this mood a "front" as in "I am in a front" and I have no idea what that means really, but it is the perfect word and it seems that everywhere I turn these days everyone is in a front, so maybe we should all join forces and have a good cry and then a really long, long long long laugh...and then share a dark chocolate reese's...

  4. I wish I didn't, but I know how you feel!
    Enjoy your Reece's!

  5. Glad your Mum is O.K. and that your brother could do his bit to help out. I am a bit slow catching up but congratulations on being published in Somerset Life.That's great news!

  6. oh man oh man oh man....can I relate to your post. The issues and worries with your mother and that out of sorts feeling....I've been having it this week as well... I hope things are looking up...

  7. i am glad..
    .your mom was ok
    .you let your brother HANDLE it!
    .you ate the dark chocolate..arent they amazing!!
    .you say what you really feel here
    .i have kindred spirit in you

  8. wish i could not identify with having skin too thin and finding everything annoying... but, some days i do. hope you have a better week.

  9. i am so glad i came here, i am sitting here on the couch, fell asleep after dinner, my skin is too thin both emotionally and physically. i hurt but am not sick. we have these days, all of us.

  10. i wish i could vent as eloquently as you.

    i so know how you felt in this post. i have many a days like this. far better to be able to be in tune with these kind of days and feeling and express them, than to hide them and always appear happy. that's just not real. i appreciate you realness and honesty here. and i so identify with your ridiculousness comments.

    {oh, and the anonymous comments being cowardly, too!}


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