A Day in The Life

It's Sunday night and I find myself weepy and emotional. I had a good weekend, for the most part. I made some extra cash at the Steakhouse, had a great night there Saturday night, time with friends, won the pool Tina started for the number of people we would have that night, and shared a moment with 3 awesome friends when we all saw a shooting star. Oh yeah, I totally made a wish on it. We'll see what happens. I had a blast with the girls, shared some intimate secrets and laughed my ass off. Now why can't that happen every day??

I went to Walmart when I finally got out of bed. I slept 1/2 the day away, and it felt awesome. But I slept half the day away and so made the crunch of things on the homefront a little more hectic. So anyway, I went to walmart and picked up some healthier things to eat during the very busy week. I have been so run down lately that I figured maybe some vitamins and some lifestyle changes would help my ability to keep it all together without feeling so utterly exhausted. I decided to pick out Father's Day cards. I was standing there reading these sentimental cards and found myself teary. I found a beautiful card for my step dad. He's been a pillar during some totally fucked up times in my life. I then found one for my sperm donor. That was harder, since 'happiness' 'you've been there' 'your great qualities' and so forth just didn't apply.

Then I went home. Found myself weepy listening to songs on the radio. I talked to Derek on the phone...and his dad. That was pretty much the last straw of the day, since he informed me that Memorial Day was not my holiday, even though the practice is every other but follows his schedule with his other son. So now I have to either call his other ex wife to get the scoop, or call my attorney...or who knows what I can do about it. So when I finished talking to Derek I had to choke back the tears because in any situation of stress...thats my typical reaction. But Derek was so sweet tonight. He found some information about his anoles he has here and read it to me. I'm so proud of that child. I'm so proud of both of them.

It could be PMS...that horrible affliction of the female population. It could be the continual ungodly stress of all thats happening (or not happening) here. It could be that in everything I attempt, there is the ongoing fight with insecurities I still can't completely pluck out. I hate Sunday nights. Sunday nights are lonely nights. And in some ways, I can't wait to run my ass off all week.