NaBloPoMo # 8: Head Exploding Thoughts

My brain is full again, and is aching for release. So, I’d better get some of these thoughts out in order to make room for other things. Randomness, there will be. And, odd thoughts, most certainly. There are overblown exaggerations. This will pretty much be to help circumvent my need for mood stabilizing drugs or the impending short circuit in my brain.

My moods throughout the day have been all over the map, starting with road rage level anger first thing this morning to feeling overwhelmed this morning at work to relaxed and comfortable over lunch with friends to utter depression this afternoon. No rhyme or reason for it, just happened.

I have a baby shower to attend this weekend. I’m not certain whether I want to attend this baby shower. I do, but I don’t. I like the soon-to-be-mother alright. But I am jealous and upset that she’s celebrating impending motherhood. And, it makes me sink back into that depressive mode. I don’t want to be glum for the event. I don’t want to be jealous. But I am.

I have everything going on with my family, as addressed in previous posts, and there’s more going on at this point.

People that I know, people who are close to me are in fear of losing their jobs. Although I am fairly certain that my job is safe, there’s always that unknown aspect of things where I know that my job isn’t carved in stone. I could wake up and go to work in the morning to be handed notice before lunch. It’s a possibility, scary as it is. It is a possibility.

I hate looking at pictures of myself. They distort my self-view, and not in a good way.

I hate that I never have enough time for anything. It seems like I’m always running off to work, to some sort of meeting, am taking some sort of phone call. Why is it that I find myself being working woman, homemaker, roadie, creative writer, social media junkie, pet owner, home owner and whatever title fits for the day? Why is it that I expect so much of myself and I don’t hold others to that same standard? I live in a house with my husband, and yet I feel that I shoulder the majority of the housework. How is this fair? And, why have I shouldered this work myself?

Why do I feel guilty for dragging my husband into the kitchen to take care of the clean dishes that have been there for the last 2 days because he hasn’t taken care of them? Why do I get angry when I see the overflowing trash cans in the basement or the bathroom where they seem to be forgotten on trash day? Why do I have to ask for the kitchen trash to be emptied when it is practically overflowing? Why do I try so hard to ignore the mess of shaving cream and facial hair on the bathroom sink, hoping for all hope that it will magically wash itself? Why is it that the various supplies (milk, shampoo, toilet paper, etc.) always seem to magically replenish themselves for others, when I’m the one that actually takes note of when things get low and take the initiative to either purchase more myself or put them on a list to be purchased? Why is it that I support other peoples’ ideas wholeheartedly and my own ideas get tossed aside?

Why am I writing this crap when I should be sleeping?

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