Oh, shit.
If it’s possible, the actual taste in my mouth today is melancholy. Because lately days have been so joyful, and the Toddler has been so much fun even if I get my first bite of food after 1 p.m. sometimes, I almost didn’t recognize the sensation. Today my limbs feel heavy, and it’s as if I’m wading through… I dunno, gravy? The Child, after simply telling me “no” (which brought me almost to tears) when I asked her repeatedly (and politely!) to put her toys back into the bucket she’d emptied onto the rug, began hitting me with a metal pole, and when I took the metal pole she jumped on me, hands outstretched, grunting, not quite hitting because hitting it wrong, but jumping hard. Obviously, the Child also has a case of the Thursdays. The Child is now mercifully sleeping. And I am in my pajamas because real clothes feel wrong today, and I am wondering how old I will be when I can reliably be counted on to take care of my basic needs in a routine way every day. Don’t grownups eat every morning, brush their teeth and hair, and care whether they take their vitamins? Am I missing some essential gene?
I had truly forgotten what this feels like. It’s not cold enough for me to embrace the angst and sit on the porch with coffee and a blanket; I’m no longer tired enough to take a nap, although I suspect if I bury myself under the covers this afternoon a nap will overtake me.
I’ve turned off registration for comments, by the way. I’m not sure if this will make a difference in the HUGE number of comments (I’m not speaking about the LJ feed, just the main .com blog) I don’t receive but please- feel free to comment away without the need to be logged in as a user. Be aware, freaky ex-boyfriends, psychotic in-laws, and fairly odd parents, that I still track IP’s. Play nice.
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