Tuesday, January 16, 2007

How much crap have I been hauling around?

I'm pretty sure my problems are at least PMS crankiness, but I'll be damned if I'm going to apologize for yesterday's phone call. Only if I get an apology for suffering through constant telephone conversations with a partner who suddenly only has a five-word vocabulary. ("Yes", "no", "stop", "ditto", and "what")

Yesterday was just bad. So in retrospect, I'm glad I didn't try to do anything beyond reading, even though I had a list. The bank upset me--and now my refund should be there on Thursday so I can get the cash in my grubby paw and move it to my credit union (that has issues but at least communicates with me). I didn't eat right all day. Chad been logical and obtuse didn't help the emotional breakdown. So I sulked, had a good cry, got my back popped, had Mexican, and went to bed early.

Today, I'm marginally better. Maybe the cold front helped. I'm still sulky towards Chad about the damn phone thing (Why am I being punished for your decision to hate phone calls? Have to remember to ask him that.) but less sulky towards life in general. I should write today. Not that knowing that I should makes it any more likely that I will write.

Then Wil Wheaton finds the formula for procrastination.

I got nothin'.

I'm going to go write. And if the sulky mood still makes me cause the planet to die in a supernova, I fully expect somebody to tell me it doesn't work and I need to try again.

I'm at least typing today on the stuff that I had written previously. And the title of the post refers to what I said when I dumped my black bag out at work. Two of the folders in it I thought were lost in my office.

Read Free!
The BookWorm

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2 comments:

Mez said...

*hugs* Best thing to do, don't talk to BF when in a stink :) Although the yelling can be cathartic ;)

Good luck with the writing!

KLCtheBookWorm said...

In my defense, his name was on the now non-existant checking account and I needed to know if the bank had contacted him and he forgot to tell me. He hadn't, the bank has really bad communication problems.

The fight started when I took his response "move everything back to your credit union" as "I really don't want to have anything to do with you anymore." The twisted perception is what I'm blaming on PMS, but I was already in a lousy mood before that.