I am jealous of my husband. Not that he has to live life in a wheelchair. Not that he lives in pain every day of his life. Not that he has a neuromuscular disorder that will plague him forever. No, I am jealous because my husband gets to have summer. Remember summer? Those some 12 wonderful weeks of nothing between grades. I miss summer. I miss sleeping until you wake up. I miss staying up late. I miss riding my bike in the cool of the morning. I miss playing kick the can until it got so dark you couldn’t see the can anymore. I miss lunches of spaghetti-o’s and corn chips. I miss watching daytime TV until I fell asleep from boredom. I miss lying out on a big blanket in the summer sun, not getting tan but getting burnt to a crisp while playing the top 40 radio station and singing along. I miss meandering around the library looking for a book I haven’t read. I miss reading an entire book in a day. I miss going from the heat of the day to the cool of our air conditioned house back to the heat of the day and so on. I miss making up stuff to do to keep busy so Mom wouldn’t give me something to do. I miss running through sprinklers and playing in pools. I miss camping with my family. Mostly I miss the summers where I was young enough to have no real responsibility but old enough to appreciate that. I even miss being bored. I wish we were like most European countries who take the month of August off for holiday. I have been out of school some 20 years now but I still miss summer. I have senioritis and no graduation is in sight (metaphorically speaking).
This morning at my bagel place, I saw a guy with a gun strapped to his side. It was a large black gun in a large black hip holster. He was in plain casual work clothes and did not look like a cop. Yet why would this random guy need to carry a gun? It was an odd sight to see first thing in the morning. I know MN has a conceal/carry law but this is the first time I’ve ever seen a random citizen carrying a gun around. We live in a hoity toity west suburb, not the ‘hood. At the same bagel place I saw two gals sporting the latest apparel craze…gauchos. I don’t know why this is in. It’s not even attractive. Both these gals were tall and twiggy thin and yet the gauchos did not look good on them at all. Both girls looked as though they were about to lose their bottoms any minute. Both girls’ pants accentuated their butts in an unattractive way. Someone should put a stop to this look right away. Capri’s are OK; Bermuda shorts are OK, but gauchos? NO! WAY!
The kittens are getting bigger and braver and more rambunctious. They now know the layout of our apartment and are now beginning to explore up and behind. They are going behind the refrigerator and behind the computer desk. They are also climbing furniture to get to shelves and wall hangings. Chloe got her first squirt from the water bottle last night. She was rather shocked and ran around the room 3 times as though she were burning and putting out the fire. They are still super cute though! I came home from work last night to find Bob and both kittens soundly sleeping in our bed. I woke them up when I came tromping into the apartment, otherwise there would be photographic proof of the cuteness.
I am feeling blah today. My job is boring and I am finding myself dreading going to work. I haven’t felt that way since I worked at my other job 3 some odd years ago and that was because my bosses were incompetent, abusive boobs. I just feel like what I do is drudgery and what I do doesn’t make a difference. I don’t feel like I fit in and I don’t find much joy there any longer. I am looking at my company’s job board and applying for different things, but it may not be the right time to move on. I might do better to wait until I graduate in December. That sure seems like a long way away. I just felt myself thinking “is this all there is?” last night when I was getting ready for bed. Work, home, eat, sleep, work, home, eat, sleep. Blah. This is my first really long, drawn out depression since getting married. It sucks to go through it alone, but it sucks mightily more to have to put Bob through it. He’s great though. If I had to pick someone to go through this time with, I would have picked him. I just feel badly about how crappy a wife I am during this time. He would deny that I am a crappy wife but I know I am not giving it my all right now. Wouldn’t marriage be nicer if our baggage didn’t affect our mates at all? Anyway, I have counseling next week and we are going to talk more about allowing myself to feel the grief and anger I’ve been bottling up for the past 4 years. Won’t that be fun? Yay! This is scary to put out there because then it means it’s real, but I’ve been thinking of checking myself into a mental health facility for a short time. I have been there before. It was a much scarier time and I was out of options. At that time I swore I would never go there again. There is so much I don’t like about those facilities. I don’t like groups. I don’t like the boredom. I don’t like that everyone seemed so “out there”. I don’t like that I didn’t feel as though I fit in yet probably did and everyone thought that about themselves. I just feel like I need to get a jump start on working through some of this crap and every other week counseling isn’t going to cut it right now. I don’t know. I’m taking it a day at a time. I don’t feel suicidal. I don’t feel like I want to sleep all day every day. I just feel like I need some time to find me again. I am just taking it a day and an hour at a time. That’s the best I can do for me right now.