I am having one of those days where I'm so tired and cranky that all I want to do is drink caffeinated beverages and cry. The problem is, I'm not sure I have any actual valid reason to feel this way.
This pre-menopause crap is hitting me HARD, yo. I have been walking a tightrope of PMS, PMDD, PMHIJK and LMNOP. My constant mental state is one of irritation and depression, with chocolate and salt cravings.
I'm like a pissed off, bloated chihuahua, constantly yapping and snarling at everyone, then wandering off to sit on a pillow and shiver.
I got plenty of sleep last night (really... there is absolutely no reason for me to be tired. None). I got up this morning and started working on my website to be a sales consultant (yes, I'm being evasive for a reason... because if my mother finds out what I'm doing, she might disinherit me and I need the money, y'all).
After reading the instructions, logging in, downloading, redownloading, re-reading, tearing my hair out, two cups of coffee, and breaking a nail, I couldn't figure out how to get it up and running. Then my internet went on the blink for about 5 minutes, and when I finally got back online, everything was GONE. Gone. GONE... and I had to start over.
I threw myself face down onto my bed and bawled. I cried because I'm homesick, I cried because I'm too old to figure out how to set up what should be a really simple website, I cried because I'm broke, and I cried because it's one thing I do really, really well.
I then made plans to pack up my dog, get into my little red car, and haul ass back to California, because I was pretty sure that everything that happened this morning (the whole one thing) was totally New York's fault. In California, not only did I not NEED a website, I had enough money to buy myself a nice handbag once in a while and there was an espresso place on every corner. (Which there ISN'T in New York.)
I eventually emerged from my bedroom, poured myself a glass of Coke Zero, ate a spoonful of peanut butter, and contemplated my next move.
I decided setting up my website was too hard. It might make me cry again. I needed to do something that would be productive and make me feel useful. (Being unemployed is not a good way to feel useful. Trust me on this.)
I made meatballs and homemade spaghetti sauce, and dumped it alllll into the crockpot. There is nothing better than a delicious crockpot full of fragrant marinara sauce on a chilly day to make everything better, right?
That done, I decided to get back to work on my website. If I don't get this done and start selling stuff, the dogs are going to have to go without Pupperoni and I may never have the means to buy a new purse again. (Not to mention the fact that if I ever want Starbucks again, I'm going to have to buy myself a franchise.)
I clicked and highlighted and finally got my website up and running. Feeling fairly proud of myself for not needing the Geek Squad to come rescue me, I took a break and treated myself to one of the 400 episodes of Bones that I have recorded on DVR. (Okay, I'm lying. I watched Maury first. THEN I watched Bones. Don't judge me.)
I got a few more things done, like making the bed and doing some laundry and started feeling happier around lunchtime.
I came into the kitchen and lifted the lid off the crockpot.
Hmmmmm, I thought. This lid is awfully cold...
Yeahhhhh. I forgot to turn the damn thing ON.
What at one time would have made me laugh, today triggered a minor breakdown.
The scary part is that while I'm falling apart for absolutely no good reason, I'm TELLING myself, "Dude! You are totally over-reacting! Get a grip!" (And then I scream, "Shut up! You don't understand me! Waaaaaah!" back at myself. We have quite a volatile relationship, myself and I do.)
I eventually solved all my problems with Biscotti and a fat free latte. I feel like such a stereotype. And I hate that.
Puberty was a breeze. Menopause? SUCKS. Trust me on this.