tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Thursday, September 24, 2015

I'm driving and writing again. I need someone to talk to, so I figure I'll dictate to my phone.

I'm overwhelmed with everything in life lately. I'm overwhelmed by my work. I'm overwhelmed with my living situation. I'm overwhelmed with choices I face. I'm overwhelmed with the teen angst of my adolescent son. 
And I'm dissatisfied. Just dissatisfied with my life. 

I want to have a nice place, but I can barely afford to. I want a new car, but I can't afford a nice place AND a car payment. I want to work from home. But doing what? Or maybe I just want to be at home. Maybe I just want to be taken care of. Does that make me lazy? I've never considered myself lazy; I've always worked, many times in my life, too much.

Maybe I just want to enjoy what time I have left, and do whatever the hell I want to do. I'm only 42, and I don't mean to sound morbid… But, do you ever get the feeling that you don't have much time left? I mean, I know we are all aware of our mortality, obviously. But it's more than that. It's just a feeling. It's probably just because my chest always hurts now, and every day I carry a tight, painful little ball of anxiety around in it. I know a lot of it is because I'm smoking too much. And yet I don't have the desire or the willpower to stop. Most times I don't even care.

I still feel like I reside in limbo. Not satisfied with my station in life, not feeling at home anywhere.. Not in my "career" or in my personal life. Not knowing what my life path is. Limbo is a nasty place to live.

But my picture is pretty. I make a lovely fa├žade.

Maybe I'm just stressed out and overtired today. I hardly slept last night; we had a very traumatizing evening. I wish I could write about it, but I can't disclose anything just yet. We weren't injured or anything, but there was an incident. And it was disturbing, and frightening, and something we will never forget. What very little sleep I did get was wrought with nightmares. 

Or maybe I'm just hormonal.

Maybe I need a dog.