What I'm looking forward to (hoping for!) this weekend is a BREAK. At this moment, I really just want to fall in the floor and throw a major temper tantrum... kicking, screaming and crying like a two yr. old. But I'm fighting the urge 'cause I'm too old and mature for that... right?! *pplllbbbtthhh*
The sensible part of me realizes that this week hasn't been horrible... but the sensitive part of me is feeling completely and utterly overwhelmed right now. Almost defeated, actually... (note that I said, "Almost" -- I'm trying to hang on by a thread!)
I'm not in a happy state of mind right now. I'm questioning everything about myself and the decisions I've made to put me where I am today. Normally, I refuse to let myself feel this way and I pull out all the stops to find hope, happiness and laughter. But at this moment, I really just want to get rip-roaring drunk, give into my pity-party for a bit and sob like a baby. Sometimes, laughter isn't always the best medicine... sometimes a good, hard sobbing fit is the ticket.
Usually, I like to laugh myself to tears. Tonight, I just want to cry until I can giggle at myself.
Comments:
Take the bottle of wine and soak in a nice hot bubble bath!!!!!!
PS.....Please don't drown in the tub!!!
I'm bringing the party hats! But I have a rule about pity parties...they can't last more than 15 minutes. So I'll join you for that long, then you have to determine to take things one step at a time, and just keep swimming!
You can do it - you're my superhero!
imagine me naked with Aunt Ethel's lampshade on my head. that'll send you into a FIT of giffles. it'll be a gigglestorm. it'll be such a big gigglestorm, it'd clog up the doppler radar thingy they're always talking about on the weather channel.
me, nakey. ugly lampshade. it's what i'm wearing tonight. possibly tomorrow, too.
iz PMS? Iz hormones raging out of control? I got your prescription right here:

No solo pity parties! I will gladly join you. Aunt Flow is here, I've got a head cold, and this snow and rain is depressing the hell out of me. My kids have destroyed my house, and my husband has been home waayyyy too much lately (no work means no money). My car has issues and I'm feeling really hinky about driving it. And finally, the 20 pounds I packed on this past year mean that none of my pants fit.
I've got a bottle of Jameson's Irish Whiskey and a shotglass. Are ya gonna join me in a shot or ten?
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- suzyhomemaker
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