Today is just one of those days - you know the kind I'm talking about. The kind where you feel just fine and then all of a sudden *BAM* it hits you. This one was brought on by something so stupid. Sabine brought Grace home from the Swimming Pool and mentioned that two of her friends' moms had signed them up for a Fit Kids program, but neither of them asked me if I'd be interested in signing Grace up. These two women are my closet friends in Stowe. I know it's stupid, but it ticked me off.
Grief is one sneaky bastard. I am feeling suffocated by my life. I want to get the F*ck out of Vermont, and just run away. I'm feeling isolated and out of touch, and damn it, I want my old life back. I'm angry that this new one has been forced upon me against my will. I hate this time of year. I'm sick of all the f*cking snow. I want to be able to go outside without putting on 12 layers of clothes on damn it. I want to drive my car without the outside being caked in mud.
Maybe it's because I'm almost completely weaned off my anti-depressants. Maybe it's because my whole Army brat life I've moved every three years, and I've got wanderlust again. Charleston, S.C. is looking REAL good to me at the moment. If only I had the chutzpah to rip my children away from my parents and just make the move.
Sorry to whine, complain, and blather on endlessly. What I need is sour grapes so I can turn them into wine to drink my sorrows away.
Please excuse me while I attend my own personal pity party.....
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2 comments:
I'd like to pull up a chair and join you, particularly if you've turned those sour grapes into wine.
I'll even eat the sour grapes, because I'm grimacing already.
I hear you. TS Eliot may say that April is the cruelest month but this March is clearly kicking our psyches' asses (if such a thing is possible).
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