January - October 2007
August 18, 2005 - 10:21 a.m.
Iím not Miserable, I Just Donít Want to Talk to You
Iím just mad. Mad all the time and Iím not really sure why and I donít know how to get out of this funk. I feel like from the moment I get up in the morning till I put Peyton to bed about 9:30 that it is non stop. Get up, get ready, get the kids ready, get to work, bust my ass, come home, let the dogs out, feed Shey, feed Peyton, make dinner, eat, give Shey a bath, give Peyton a bath, give Shey a bottle, put Shey to bed, watch Dora with Peyton, put Peyton to bed, collapse, sleep, repeat.
I understand Iím an adult, and that these are my kids, and that this is my life, but sometimes it just pisses me off. And Peyton is still freakiní shitting in his underwear. He can tell us when heís in the tub and has to get out to poop, but he canít tell me when heís standing outside, just watching the pool, and decides, ďHey, now would be a good time to take a dump.Ē
Larry thinks all I need is a night out, to get away for a few hours. A temporary solution for a permanent problem. He doesnít understand that yeah, it will be nice to go out, have a couple beers and a good time, but I still have to go home and that big fat elephant sitting in our house will still be there.
I know Iím dancing around things here, but itís the best I can do and I just needed to vent a little.