Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Thank God for Short Holiday Weeks

My mood today is not that of a well-rested woman who just enjoyed a long weekend. It's more like that of a woman who has had just about all that she can take as far as life is concerned, and is ready to explode. And, oh yeah, she has her period. Because I do. Have my period. On top of the cramps I still have from my last surgery, I have the more-painful-than-necessary cramps that come this time of the month, every month. And I can't be quite sure of which is causing me the pain - The removal of a part of my cervix and its subsequent healing, or my recently fucked-with ovaries just doing what they do every month. Who knows. It's a mystery that I probably won't ever have solved. No, I'll just get to sit here, clutching my belly, cursing the gods of fertility and trying not to cry. Not because it hurts so bad, but because that's what I do when I have my period; I cry. For no reason in particular. I just, you know, cry.

So far today I've had a few reasons (and I use that term loosely) to cry. I was caught behind two dump trucks on my way into work, I have had to fight with three companies over money, and I touched a spider. This does not a good day make.

For the record, the spider was just the nuts on top of the sundae of awesomeness that is today. I got the mail, here at work, on my way to the bank, and brought the bundle into my car. When I went to shift into first, I noticed something on my hand. I thought maybe it was a tree leaf or a torn-off piece of newspaper. But I went to brush it off, and noticed it wad decidedly unlike a leaf or piece of paper. The Daddy Long Legs straddled my two hands, his red little body hovering between the hand he was just hanging out on, and the one that went to brush him away. I'm ashamed to admit, but I squealed, checking my actual urge to scream by clenching my lips together. I shook both hands violently, sending him flying into my passenger seat, just narrowly avoiding the abyss that is my purse. He landed, instead, on my new Christina Aguilera CD. He landed, feet first, wavered a bit like he was stunned, then attempted to walk. Apparently, he was still trying to gain his bearings, as he sort of meandered in a half circle, then stopped. I opened my door, all the while sort of moaning in disgust, grabbed the CD and flicked my wrist in the direction of the outdoors to ensure both his flight from my car and the safety of my new CD. When I saw that he was on the pavement, I slammed shut my door, sure that he'd left about a million other spiders in the car with me, all hiding in the mail. My drive to the bank was uneasy at best, and I took the alone time in the comfort of my 4Runner to call my mom.

I talked her ear off, about everything that's bothering me today. Because, when it comes down to it, she's really one of the only people in my life who let me just talk without interrupting, or getting distracted in the middle of my sentence. And that's what I needed today, someone to listen to me. Because there's too much going on in my mind that I can't talk to just anyone about, and I know she's the one of the two women in my life who will just listen and commiserate. No advice, no solutions, just validating my frustration so that it's out of me.

Which is why I just don't have much to write about right now. I could write about how I cleaned the bathroom on Saturday, how Billy fixed the toilet when he got home Saturday night before we went out to a poker game/boxing match event. I could talk about our lazy Sunday, where, like a real grown-up couple, we took the garbage to our local dump, then went home and got ready for an overpriced but fantastic gourmet dinner at a local (and sort of famous) restaurant/cooking school with his mom (a belated Mother's Day gift). I could talk about how I laid in bed all morning yesterday, watching the food network until hunger forced me from the sheets and into the shower then out to my car, where I spent a blissful afternoon alone, eating my lunch with the company of only a book, followed by a shopping excursion where, for once, everything actually fit. But I just can't work up the proper gusto to detail those events. Not today anyway.

I'm just glad this is a short week.

6 comments:

Michele said...

I am with you on the spiders. I was up in the mountains this weekend and I spotted a GIANT (seriously!) spider on my comforter. I tried to shake the comforter to get him off but he was hanging on for dear life. At this point I was torn as I had nothing within reach to brush him off with, and I certainly didn't want him disappearing into my bed but I really didn't want to touch him either. I had to touch him. I swatted him off with my hand (reluctantly) and sent him flying across the room. Ewwww!

Pandora Wilde said...

It's the time of year around here to find ickypoocaca spiders coming in because the nights are getting cold and THEY think it's time to find winter quarters. Bugs the shit outta me, literally.

God's gift to women (with really low standards) said...

So when you see a spider in your house it actually annoys you so much you poop? 'Cause that's kinda cool.

Cheetarah1980 said...

I totally get your mood. Why do long weekends never have the restorative powers they promise? Sorry to hear about the cramps and your reasons to cry. If all else fails, just crawl into bed and wallow.

Jasika said...

ewwwwwww Spiders. I have screamed at the top of my lungs before. I want ANY AND ALL insects DEAD. GONE. POOF. Useless, ugly things. Ok, I know they arent COMPLETELY useless..but to me they are.

Anyway, you should just call it a day, go home and do NOTHING. Dont even think.

Liz said...

LMAO- You did exactly what I would have done with the spider, but somehow I think I would have gotten in an accient at the same time.