By the end of the day today I was exhausted, bloated, and IRR. IT. A. BLE. It was all I could do not to fall asleep at my desk and it wasn’t that I had a particularly taxing day. I was treated to my husband picking me up from work today which meant on this coldest of the cold days I got into a warm vehicle. Did I enjoy it? No. It was “too hot” and the goddamn sun was in the wrong spot and in my eyes. “First world problems” may be overused and cliche but shit, those are first world problems if I’ve ever heard or had ’em.
I came home, ravenous, which only further served to ignite the irrational rage flame. I WANTED TO EAT ALL OF THE FOOD AND THE HIGHER THE SUGAR CONTENT THE BETTER. However, I’m only on day 3 of the Road to 40 and no way am I letting buddy win this competition over – I could just picture him over at his house – not premenstrual or bloated, his only active hormones making sure that beard stays on point and his hair flips just so, while his lovely wife prepare them a healthy meal that fits with his (and her) meal plan. I opened the cupboard to get spices out to prepare my own health compliant supper and a package of mini Reese peanut butter cups stared down at me. They beckoned and then they mocked me. Why do I even have the little bastards? Well they were for something I was going to make at Christmas that never got made because we had more than enough to eat and I’m too cheap to just throw them out. Oh and there is also one of those ginormous peanut butter cups in the fridge – like 1/2 lb – it’s Reese’s (it never truly clicked for some time that I named my child after one of my favourite treats but so be it) and he had a few little mouse bites one evening and then put it in the fridge for “later” (which also begs the question of whether or not he’s actually OUR child. Ryan would eat that thing in a heartbeat and it might take me 2).
I held strong though and continued with my ground turkey and quinoa concoction (which actually ended up being very good) and barked angry things at any family members that dared attempt to interact with me. “Just drink the #$%@! hot chocolate!” was one of the loving phrases uttered before 5 pm today. Am I proud of this? Nope, but it happened and for any of you other women out there who turn into someone who can’t even stand herself while preparing for Aunt Flo’s visit (I hate that euphemism but here we are), then you need to know you are not alone!
Then I was left alone. Bliss. Reese went to his friend’s house for supper; smart kid – take cover. Ryan and Rhett went to hockey practice. I put supper in the oven and watched one episode of a new series that all women who aren’t prone to taking themselves too seriously should check out: Workin’ Moms on CBC. Pilot was last night and was pretty good! Anyway, then I ate supper and delved into ‘This is Us’ as I had a few episodes to catch up on. Great thinking Angela. Nice move. Let’s add a few tears to the mix with that emotional roller coaster. When will I stop reacting to television shows like the characters are family or at the very least very good friends? IT’S PRETEND.
Anyway, I also enjoyed a cup of tea in an effort to fend off the ‘cups. It’s good tea but as good as a Peanut Butter Cup? Don’t be ridiculous but the peanut butter cups remain safe for another day. I just have to make it through reading with Rhett, an episode of zombie annihilation and me questioning why no one’s hair really grows except Rick’s and Carl’s (well Maggie’s is finally long enough to pull back into a ponytail after what I think is 2 years…but Carol? How in the name of Jesus and all that is holy is she maintaining that little shag number she’s got going on? Also never takes those goddamn earrings out. At one point smears herself in zombie guts (it served a purpose, I know) but yet when all is said and done, “I’ll just keep these earrings in. I’m sure they smell great and they really pull my outfit together. Never mind that I haven’t showered in eons or brushed my teeth, a girl’s got to accessorize!”
Do you see what’s happening here? No one is safe. NO ONE.
If you see me in the next day or 2 and I look pleasant, just smile and then back away slowly but don’t make it obvious or suggest I’m anything other than happy. Just don’t push your luck. I’m like a wild animal that has been tamed – you think – but always a little unpredictable and it’s better to play it safe. If I look angry? Just fucking run.
Ta ta for now!