Sometimes sickness, PMS, and poor attitude just all align in such a way to trigger a series of crying jags – I’ve cried myself to sleep the last two nights and I routinely burst into tears in the middle of day. What the?
Poor Chad. He just spoons me, kisses my back, and waits it out.
Who knew that it would me who would have the hardest time adjusting to moving? Part of the problem may be that I am spending too much time online. A cyberhugÂ is nice, but chilly. I think I need to find some real, live people to hang around with.
Also, I’m depressed because Nabi Grace’s holiday visit from Thailand was canceled. Sue, Joss and the baby are headed to Australia instead for a wedding. We’re invited also, but we don’t have the funds. Which leads to the whole other depressing topic of jobs and money. I can either suck it up and keep applying for jobs, work on clip building, and blog with no income, or I c-c-can g-g-o back to s-s-subbing. Do you see how jittery I get when you mention substitute school teaching? It’s not that it’s awful, it’s that an awful part of me is released and fed when I substitute teach; the part of me that’s impassive, rigid, and doesn’t listen to any excuses.
Serendipity: while I was wallowing in my big pile of sorry-for-me mud, my email pinged. One of the craigslist jobs I applied for this morning wants me to do a sample write ASAP. Better get on it.