I am cranky. Wanna know why? If you don’t, you had best stop reading now. You were warned.
- I’ve “written” (and I use the term loosely) and trashed about seven blog posts this week. Some were several paragraphs long when I clicked, highlighted and deleted them. There were actually some halfway decent sentences among them, a couple of interesting trains of thought and even a few clever witticisms, but nothing came together in any meaningful way.* It was irritating, frustrating and even a little bit thought-provoking; the main thought being: what’s my problem? #thingsthatmakemecranky
- Sleep (or, more to the point, a lack of sleep) is mocking, torturing and berating me. Falling asleep is not an issue. In fact, I can (and do) fall asleep remarkably quickly. I feel my eyes getting heavy and my brain shutting down and within a nanosecond of assuming the on-my-stomach-leg-bent-out-to-the-side stance I am out cold. If only I could stay that way for longer than four freakin’ hours. And those of you who are ready to espouse the virtue of any number of sleep aids (prescription and OTC alike) can save your breath. I’ve tried them all. It is, I am convinced, a conspiracy. #thingsthatmakemecranky
- Mental overload. I, like everyone else, always have a lot on my plate. Most days I handle it with grace or at least have mastered the art of fooling everyone into thinking such. Others days, like, well, today, however: not so much. There is a definite correlation between how much is rattling around in my head, how I sleep (see #2) and how well I cope (and write). Crappy thinking begets crappy sleep begets crappy writing oh, and crappy mood.* #thingsthatmakesmecranky
- I have cried on four separate occasions today. None were particularly meaningful bawls, rather quick drops spontaneously erupting from my eyes (and, I might note, smearing my mascara in the process which, if I am being honest, could be a line item all its own). While I can think of any number of reasons for the tears, none of the episodes rendered much in the way of relief.* File under: yet another irritant, oh, and #thingsthatmakemecranky
- I’m not eating much. I am exercising regularly. Yet, for some obnoxious reason, all my jeans feel snug. Not tight, just snug. Enough to make me crankier. #thingsthatmakemecranky
- The cat who, admittedly, served his purpose by ridding us of the rodents who had taken up residence in our walls (where they also chose to die), has overstayed his welcome. #thingsthatmakemecranky
- I settled into bed last night, inordinately excited to catch up on the “Modern Family” and “Real Housewives” episodes that I so carefully recorded only to discover that someone in the house (naming no names, it was the 18-year-old) watched and, I can only assume, enjoyed MF and then deleted it. Said 18-year-old did not touch the “RH”, though. I do take comfort in that. However, #thingsthatmakemecranky
- I did a massive load of Jessie’s laundry two days ago. It is all still in the dryer. Gonna look like shit.* #thingsthatmakemecranky
Okay, I feel a little bit better. Now you, however, are probably all agitated and constructing your own list of that which makes you cranky. Have at it and feel free to lift the hashtag.
*Much like this blog post.