Monday, September 16, 2013

Weekend Update


This weekend was wonderful. If you follow me on instagram, you can see that I went camping and that I also threw a tie dye party with some friends!
Ahh, the sound of peace. And bugs.
But, then Sunday hit. Sunday, for some reason, found me crabby. And irritated. At nothing. Well, not really at nothing. I was bothered by my sewing skills, or lack thereof. I can't seem to make a straight stitch, sometimes. And things don't fit together they way I want, more often then not. My clothing and purses and other oddments—they don't seem as “professional” as I want them to seem. This bothers me. I wonder sometimes if I'll ever get there. I wonder what is holding me back. I wonder if I'll ever be good enough. I wish I knew someone to help me fix my mistakes. As a self-taught seamstress, I feel like I have a lot of rudimentary gaps in my knowledge. I don't know how to fix them. Oh, and everyone is better then me. I should just give up now.

So, yeah, I was in a funk. And husband had to work this Sunday, after church, which put me into more of a funk, because Sundays are supposed to be “us” time. And I like “us” time just like I like my reading time. Uninterrupted. And clothing-optional.

So, I thought, maybe I'll work on my novel. The novel that I'm supposed to be writing. The novel that is coming along...terribly. Actually, I put it aside a few weeks ago and haven’t touched it since. We aren’t speaking. I wonder if we ever will, again? Is it possible to be mad at a Open Office document?

After that, I had to rip out a few rows of knitting. I'm using lace yarn. It was a pain.

Then one of my old friends, who I had dated a long time ago--sent me a nasty e-mail, where he basically blamed me for his awful life and inability to trust women. So I wrote back, trying to tell him that I am the least of his problems—and the root of none. Through probably some. Maybe? His choices are still his choices. His e-mail came out of nowhere, because I thought between us, things were square. We never got physical, he and I, and he had broken up with me several times because he “just didn't like me really that much, as more then a friend.” But now apparently I'm the cause of all his problems. Out of the few guys I dated, he should have the least to complain about. Seriously. I cringe at the thought of any of my other X's starting a blog. They'd probably be popular. For all the wrong reasons.

Oh, and my husband and I had a minor argument, that was really my fault, since I was just a little upset over my day and goings-on. And irrational. Oh, and did I mention menstruating?

....where was this post going? Well, I was going to end it with some kind of saying about how little problems can really throw a wrench in your day, and how God is bigger then all that and you should keep going and pushing forward, and that life is wonderful and about how my struggles really pale in comparison to many others out there who are hurting or sick, or, you know, starving to death—and that's all true--but I'm too ruffled to sort all those complicated feelings out right now, so I think I'll just end with this:
Yup, that pretty much sums up how I feel about life at the moment. Now, if you excuse me, I am going to eat a whole container of ice cream. Or go shopping. Shoe shopping sounds relatively safe, right?

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