Overwhelmed. with a capital o.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
"Mommy - gooooooooo!" says my daughter. Go means both go and come and this morning at 6:25 AM, go means come play with me.
"Daddy is going to go play this morning. Mommy needs to sleep a little more," I respond, grateful that my husband is getting up with Evvy this morning.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Evidently, she has chosen this morning to be anti-daddy. Great.
We try a few more times, but she wants nothing to do with her father this morning. So I lug myself out of bed and into the family room where she has now decided that Daddy is a sufficient playmate. I set up a makeshift bed on the floor so that I am still there but can close my eyes for a few more minutes. Today I feel exhausted. And my belly is itchy. And have I mentioned that my ass seems to decided it should keep up with my stomach? I'm going to need to get it it's own seat on our next flight. I keep making lists of things I need to get done but relaxing doesn't seem to be anywhere on that list. With the exception of the occassional pre-natal yoga class, I can't seem to find anytime for myself. It doesn't matter that I don't plan anything most evenings - there are dishes and laundry and bills. And those are just the weekly things - forget all the things on my list to get done before the baby arrives. I am exhausted.
At 7:15, while they go to walk the dogs, I get up and empty the dishwasher, reload the dishwasher, and start to get things ready for the sitter who will be arriving in an hour. Evvy has decided she wants cornichons for breakfast. Hey - whatever works.
I run to the grocery store to grab milk, which we are out of, since there will not be a successful naptime without milk. I take advantage of these 15 minutes to catch up with a good friend in NYC who has recently had her 2nd child - grateful for her words of wisdom and thoughts on how to juggle two as best as possible. (best as possible seems to be the key.)
I come home feeling mildly less overwhelmed when I enter my kitchen to my husband and child sitting on the floor surrounded by the contents of an entire container of Happy Baby puffs, most of her sippy cups and a slew of other things from the cabinets that I can't recall seeing because I was only seeing mild shades of red. Perhaps my baby is happy, but I am not.
I understand that my husband simply wants to keep her happy, but all too soon, he is going to realize the value of keeping mommy happy as well. Because he and I both know that now that I am home, he will need to get in a shower to leave for the day and I will be left to not only attempt to keep my toddler happy, but to also clean up the contents of the floor.
I spend the first 30 minutes that the sitter is there doing just that and getting dressed and I finally get out the door, knowing that at least I am on my way to yoga to try to clear my mind and my heart and my spirit. I am Overwhelmed - yes...with a capital O.
I was so zen during my pregnancy with Evvy but I am having immense trouble finding my zen this time around. I can't help but spend hours on end wondering how the hell I'm going to make it all work when there are 2. And yes, if you are my mother or my father or my aunt or anyone else of that generation, I am sure you are reading this, perhaps chuckling, thinking about how you did it and we all turned out fine. And that may be true. But I am not you, and I haven't done it yet and I am Overwhelmed. How do you tend to an infant, who literally needs you to survive, and a toddler, who emotionally needs you (and is still a baby too) at the same time? I know that people do it AAAAAAAAAAAAALL the time, but I haven't figured out how I'm going to do it. And to be honest, the questions from the other moms who have 18 month olds, asking me if I'm nervous about how I'm going to do it aren't helping. I smile warmly and say, "a bit, but we knew it would be more work at the beginning - we wanted the kids to be close in age." But what I want to say is, "Are you nuts? Of COURSE I'm nervous. I'm totally insane. What the hell was I thinking??????????" I don't.
I know that Evvy will be fine - that she will adapt. I know that I will manage to give the baby everything she needs as well. I know that there will just have to be enough of me to go around and that second babies tend to be more adaptable and that Evvy will adapt too. At least I tell myself these things to try to feel better. But when I'm done taking care of everyone else, I can't help but wonder, will there be enough of me left for me? Perhaps that's selfish of me, but to be perfectly honest, I think that in order to be a good mother, you need to be selfish sometimes. How do you give 100% of yourself to everyone else? You have to save a little bit for you. And I'm worried that there will be nothing left for me...
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:39 AM 0 comments
Labels: I HAVE a baby, introspection, meltdowns, musings on life, we're having a baby
What Happened?
Monday, December 22, 2008
Was it suppsed to make me feel better to be told I had more important things to be concerned with right now? It didn't. Was it supposed to make me feel good to know it has nothing to do with my performance? That my boss felt I could run the company one day? It didn't. It made me feel worse. If I had such potential, showed so much promise...then why were they choosing ME?!?! It's hard to swallow. I have gone over it and over it and over it in my head 50 million times. I don't get it. I don't get some of the people that still have jobs and I don't. The pieces of the puzzle don't add up. And while I never thought things like this happen to people like me, apparently, they do.
I have gone from pissed as hell to zen and back again tonight. I don't think I want to talk about it anymore. At least not with just anyone. I need people who get how I must feel...and sometimes it feels like people don't. They couldn't possibly if they are saying some of the things they are saying, asking some of the questions they are asking. And having these conversations is not making me feel any better. It's not helping me to move forward. I don't know why it happened. I don't know if my pregnancy played a role or not. I don't want to hear that companies are doing this left and right and then 3 months later, hiring people that are cheaper. I truly don't believe that will happen here...but even thinking about it makes me angry again. It makes me furious in fact. It makes me want to throw something. Something large that could do damage.
And I don't want to be angry. I don't want to stress too much about the future.I just want to be. To be pregnant. To be happy.
I'm finding it hard, though, to not have a job. I know that my job is not my identity. I have said it many times before. I know that there is so much more to me than what I do. But I was loving my job. I was proud of where I'd gotten. I worked my ass off to get there. And I was loving it - truly loving it - for the first time in a long time. It felt like an achievement to have finally gotten to a place I had been working to get for so long. And I was good at it - I was really, really good at it. So it felt like it was a part of who I am. And I feel like I lost a part of who I am. I mean, I know I didn't. I know that's not really true. I know that I still have the things that truly make me who I am-that no one can take that away from me. But still...it feels like it. I feel a loss.
And tonight I just want it to go away. I don't want to answer questions or hypothesize about why or think about what I'm going to do. I just want to move forward. I really want to pretend like it didn't happen or like I never worked there. Which I suppose means I don't really want to deal with reality...but that's how I feel for tonight.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:21 AM 1 comments
Labels: introspection, life lessons, meltdowns
Content My Ass.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
I suppose I spoke too soon.
I've been staring at the screen, trying to figure out how to make this creative or funny or...something other than straightforward. I haven't figured it out.
It's 5:33 on a rainy LA morning and I've slept for a total of about 3 hours. I'm chock-fucking-full of angst. I don't actually know if it's a rainy LA morning or not - I don't think it's raining anymore to be honest, but rainy sort of fits my mood and it sounds good. So for my purposes of this post, picture it rainy.
I started to write about all the good things, the things that are truly important - like the fact that my baby is healthy - and, for that matter, how excited I am that I'm having one. That everyone important to me is ok. And then I realized that I'm doing via blog what my friends and I all discuss our parents do to us when they call with bad news. They go through a laundry list of all the things that ARE ok. Everyone that IS fine. Telling you that everything is alright...all the while preparing you for the fact that things actually AREN'T ok, that not everyone is fine, that everything actually isn't alright...until you want to reach through the phone and punch them, but not before they tell you what the hell is GOING ON ALREADY!
Yeah. So I don't want to do that. I got laid off yesterday. Almost exactly 2 months after I was promoted. Almost exactly 3 months before I have a baby.
So yes - everyone is fine. And everything will BE fine. But things aren't ok right in this moment.
I keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason. That when one door closes another door opens, that out of necessity comes invention. That we are not handed anything that we are not capable of handling. EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. I'm working every last ounce of energy I have to embrace zen. Because what other choice is there really?
Zen as hell - except when I'm not. Not in the the moments of complete rage I've flown into or the twenty minutes spent crying in the middle of the night, trying to understand how certain people who make four times what I make and do about a quarter of the work still have their jobs but I don't. What the reasoning is behind laying off a person with a salary that's less than the new desk that the CEO of our company recently purchased. A person who has been loyal and worked hard and told time and again of their value to the company and their potential for the future.
All I can remind myself is that someone, somewhere knows that I am destined for bigger and better.
Dear Someone,
Your timing sort of sucks.
But I'm sure you have your reasons. I'm sure you have big plans for me. You're more than welcome to reveal them sooner than later.
So yeah - about that whole being content thing? I spoke too soon. But I sure enjoyed it while it lasted.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:32 AM 4 comments
Labels: introspection, life lessons, meltdowns
Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde
Monday, June 9, 2008
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.
We were playing Celebrity. Anyone unfamiliar with Celebrity should know it's a game of pop culture. Everyone writes down a bunch of names of "celebrities" on paper (sports figures, political figures, movie stars, singers...anyone who is a bona fide CELEBRITY -the meaning of which is apparently up for discussion) and throws them in a bowl. Sort of like keys in a bowl except not really because no one goes home with someone else. Unless you win the game and that's the grand prize. (ed. note: Wow. Where did that come from?) ANYHOW...teams take turns giving clues and trying to get their fellow team members to guess as many celebrities as possible in the allotted time period. It's fun, it's festive, it's fabulous.
Unless you're playing with me, apparently. Apparently, when I play Celebrity, some sort of Jekyll and Hyde thing happens and I turn from lovely and gracious (albeit slightly loud) hostess to competitive, tantrum throwing monster. There. I've done it. I've admitted I have a problem. I've taken the first step.
I'm not really sure what happened last night. Except to say that I haven't had a cocktail since my Sex and the City escapade in NYC (which apparently resulted in the contraction of strep throat. STREP THROAT??? What am I - 12? Wait...don't answer that. If you were with me last night, you would have answered yes.) So when I did have a couple of glasses of wine, it hit me a little harder than it might have. (The question here is this -- does this mean that I should have had less to drink? Or simply that I need to make sure that I'm drinking more consistently in order to keep my tolerance up?)
We break off into teams of two and I am with the celebrity virgin who, claiming she knows absolutely nothing about celebrity culture, is scared shitless. Having been a celebrity virgin myself at one time and having been slightly scarred by the experience of a very type A partner who was infuriated with me for not knowing Carrot Top from the clue "vegetable comedian", I was determined to make her first experience with the game a lighthearted one.
Sometimes good intentions just aren't enough.
It's not that I got upset with her. In fact, I was so determined to make her experience a good one, that I somehow became infuriated and enraged with the rest of the people around us when I tried to make the game as user-friendly as possible and was told that I was not allowed to do it that way.
See, the problem with Celebrity is that everyone plays a little differently. And while I am normally amenable to other people's rules, I like to know the rules before I start the game. And apparently, when I think the rules are different than they actually are, I turn into a MONSTER.
Everyone else had taken their turn and they were flying - team one got 8 points, team two got 9. We're up and the pressure is on. I open the first slip of paper and read to myself:
"No passing!"
"But I thought we just said you could pass!!"
"And then we decided you couldn't."
"Where was I for that part of the conversation???"
OK. I can't pass. Fine. They let me pass on that one (which, in hindsight, was actually quite lenient of them...but I wasn't seeing it that way last night). I grab the next slip of paper and read:
The thing about celebrity is that usually, you say the same couple of hints a few times, each time more emphatically, people throw out a few guesses, and eventually, they hit the nail on the head. So I say(or rather, yell) , "Black comedian. Star of I Think I Love My Wife!"
She says, "Ooooh. Oooh. I know this one."
So I repeat, "BLACK COMEDIAN. Star of I Think I Love My Wife!!!!!"
She looks at me for something more...so I say, "Last name rhymes with Block!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOpe. You can't say sounds like. No rhymes with."
I think you could say that at this point I'm starting to get frustrated. I'm not saying the rules are wrong. But I hate that I keep breaking them. I hate that we haven't gotten a single point.
I choose another name, knowing I can't pass, knowing I can't say "sounds like" or "rhymes with..."
I show it to my husband, who is not on my team. I mean, in life he's on my team, but he's not on my Celebrity team. (ed note: author is tired hence making cheesy analogies.) He starts to laugh immediately. Hysterically and loud. My husband has one of those loud, infectious, contagious laughs. One of the things I love most about him. BUT NOT IN THIS MOMENT. I am convinced the fact that he is laughing so hard proves my point that Mindy Cohen is NOT a celebrity.
Before I can be any more of a sore sport (what an awful expression. but honestly, I can't think of anything better to call myself in this moment besides BAD LOSER which will be reserved for later in this post...) our time is up. We got 0. That's ZERO in case you weren't sure. I am pissed. It seems like everyone else had easy celebrities - superstars. Steve Carrell, Julia Roberts, Katherine Heigl. Meanwhile, we had Frankie Muniz and Mindy Cohen (who, by the way, was Natalie on Facts of Life, just in case you, like me, had NO FUCKING CLUE.)
We get into round 2 and the other teams are racking up the points...Barack Obama, Christina Aguilera, Oprah...then it comes to us. You have to love my partner who doesn't care that the rules say you can't pass...she just does it anyhow. About 10 papers come out of the bowl and she just throws them down and grabs another one. It's hysterical. Until she comes to one that she thinks she can give a clue for:
"Oooooh. Oh. The Hills! He's on the Hills."
That was it. That was the straw that broke this camel's back. Because - and I know some of you love this show and everyone is entitled to their own opinion...but I am adamantly against The Hills. I hate this crap. No - I've never seen more than five minutes of it...but I hate it nonetheless. I hate that these idiots are being called "celebrities" even though they have no talent and create drama in their lives and are now making millions of dollars and have clothing labels and record deals when there are seriously talented people out there working their asses off to make it. I hate that these are the people that teen girls in our country aspire to be like.
Wow. Who knew I was SO angry about The Hills? The point is...I DON'T KNOW HIM IF HE'S ON THE HILLS. Sadly, this is not entirely true. I would have to live under a rock not to be aware of these people named Heidi and Lauren and Spencer. But I definitely DO NOT know their last names. Which I would need to know if I were going to get a point for it in Celebrity.
Honestly, I don't know what happened next. Except that I turned into the POOREST of poor losers. If there was a club for poor losers, I would have been president. Our time ran out, we once again had zero points, and I was not having fun. I don't know what happened to me. I'm telling you - it was totally a Dr. Jekyll Mr. Hyde.
My husband tried to get me to laugh at myself, but to no avail. If I had been able to take a deep breath and burst out laughing as I am doing at this moment as I am writing this, everything would have been ok. If I could have seen that in that moment, I was giving Heidi and Spencer and Lauren a run for their money in the moron department, then it would have been pretty funny.
But I was stuck.
I retreated to the kitchen to "check on dessert" but really, it was to escape from the moment. I stood there having this out of body experience. It was like I was looking down on myself wondering who this insane person was, why she was behaving like a raving lunatic over a game of Celebrity. I knew in my head that I was being crrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazzzzzzzzy, but I could NOT get myself out of it. I was embarrassed and didn't know how to go back and press rewind and make it all go away. Because seriously - I threw a CONNIPTION FIT. Over Celebrity.
And part of what was keeping me stuck was the fact that I felt I had a point. The rules hadn't been clearly laid out to begin with - we were playing with different sets of them. It seemed that at every turn, our team was being thrown a curve ball that the other teams had managed to avoid simply by pulling up the names of people that actually WERE celebrities. But honestly? WHO. REALLY. CARES. My point was pretty weak. Especially given that it pertained to a GAME. And it was definitely not worth taking a stand over.
I haven't really stopped thinking about last night. I hate that it happened. I hate that I behaved that way. In front of other people. I think I get stuck in this place more than I'd like. Rarely are my antics displayed in front of an entire room of guests. But often, I argue the point in my head to death. At times, I argue it - although in a calmer, more appropriate way - with other people. I get stubborn. I want others to see my point of view, all the while forgetting that they have one too. And that perhaps, if I'd just take a deep breath and a step back, then maybe I could see the big picture rather than just the small point that my view creates in it. Lately, I've been forced to let go of my point. And you know what? Things get easier when that happens. It's a huge relief. I'm not trying so hard to be seen and heard. I'm not fighting my point so much, but rather learning about someone else's perspective or perhaps just seeing things through different colored glasses. I've been slowly more and more aware that listening is a true art form and that my point really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But with a simple game of Celebrity, it all went to hell.
Last night, the thing that I couldn't stop thinking about was why I couldn't laugh at myself. Why I couldn't forgive myself for doing something that was yes - sort of stupid- but really no big deal. Because everyone else was over it while I sat in the kitchen not forgiving myself and feeling embarrassed and having absolutely no ability to just let it go. A few years ago I probably would have let it ruin my night, in turn helping to make everyone else's evening less than stellar. But instead, I actually listened to my husband (who had been trying to help me see the light - or the laughter - so to speak...) and everything turned out OK. I came in and apologized for the person that had temporarily invaded my body, and we played a couple of rounds of Taboo before we ate some fabulous berry cobbler and vanilla ice cream. Even if it was a little late in the game (no pun intended), I still managed to pick myself up by the bootstraps and tell everyone inside that they could, indeed, make fun of me for that moment for the rest of our lives. And incidentally, while my account of this here sounds like it took about an hour, I was actually only out of the room for about 10 minutes before I saw the error of my ways.
The irony of it all is that the berry cobbler that got dropped on my white sofa didn't faze me at all. Nope. I was totally cool - got a Tide pen and a little water and said that a house that doesn't feel lived in is simply a house, not a home. And I meant it.
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:45 PM 2 comments
Labels: life lessons, meltdowns, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
Me and the Fat Man
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Sometimes it feels like there's a fat man sitting on my chest. He's not bouncing up and down all jolly and happy and full of joy. He's on there pushing down, constricting me. Making fun of the fact that I don't know what I want, that I might just be a tad bit of a control freak, that I'm a little too logical. He laughs but it's not with me - it's most definitely at me and every time he laughs, he gets a little bit heavier, leaving me with less room to suck in air.
Sometimes it feels like there's a fat man sitting on my chest and I wish the world would understand me just a little bit better. And I wish I could explain me just a little bit better. And I wish that I didn't feel such a strong desire to be understood. And the harder I wish, the heavier the fat man gets.
Sometimes it feels like there's a fat man sitting on my chest, staring me in the face, his nose right next to mine. He glares directly into my eyes, refusing to back down, refusing to get off. My head starts to swarm from the lack of oxygen getting to my brain and I try to suck in a deep, full breath. But the fat man stays. And he laughs.
He says, "You should be anxious. You SHOULD feel panicked. You need to do it different! If I get up and leave, then you'll just be comfortable again and who wants comfortable for Christ's sake?" He glares at me, daring me to push him off, to tell him that he's wrong. To tell him that I don't need to take a few more risks, that everything is just as it should be. But he knows that I won't tell him that because he knows that I know that he is right.
Sometimes it feels like there's fat man sitting on my chest. He dangles his legs over the sides of my torso and eats a red velvet cupcake so that he can weigh down on me just a touch more. The knot in my throat gets tighter and I question myself, my choices, my path. He looks at me and I can tell that he thinks that I'm such a moron - that I care too much about what other people think. He sticks his big fat sweaty hands on my head and he pushes as hard as he can, making all the thoughts break off into fragments, making the walls feel like they're closing in.
Sometimes it feels like there's a fat man sitting on my chest and I want to stick a pin in his ass.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:55 PM 0 comments
Labels: daily, introspection, meltdowns, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
This black hole
Thursday, January 24, 2008
I come out of the bathroom stall in the poorly lit restroom and begin to wash my hands. I look up at myself in the mirror, admittedly to check and see whether or not I look cute, if the pimple on the lower right side of my face is getting better or worse, if I need a little lipstick. But instead, my eyes meet themselves in the mirror and I actually look at myself. Or into myself I suppose.
“You’re 30.” I hear one of the little me’s that sits on my proverbial shoulder say. (This is severely type A little me. The one that thinks I should have had a corner office and been running Hollywood by the time I was 29.) “What are you doing? What are you doing?” my mini-me screams. Literally screams inside my head. I hear it and I want to shut it out. I want to block my ears and not hear the screaming but that's impossible when the screamer is me.
I realize I am no longer looking in the mirror. I am back in the stall that I came out of, allowing the tears to silently stream down my face. In a moment, I'll come out again and look in the mirror to see if I look cute, to see if the pimple on the lower right side of my face is getting better or worse, to see if I need lipstick.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:29 PM 2 comments
Labels: meltdowns, past, writing exercise, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
rain + strike=grumpy
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
It's raining in LA and while my neighbor says it's good because we need it, apparently I've become addicted to the groundhog day-like sun that seems to greet me almost every morning. Usually it lasts for a day and we're done. We grumble and moan and don't leave for lunch and then we awake the next morning to the sun, reassuring us that all is well in the land of LaLa. So it poured yesterday. True to form, I had trouble getting out of bed. I felt lethargic and annoyed and my new haircut looked like shit. I went directly home after work. I did not pass go or go to yoga or meet a friend. I got into sweats and I planted myself on my couch and went to bed early, certain that I would awake to a new, bright, sunshine-y day.
But this morning didn't feel bright and sunshine-y. It was drizzly and overcast and that's where my mood is too. And besides the fact that it's supposed to rain AGAIN tomorrow, I can't help but attribute some of this to the fact that my brain is atrophying from lack of use due to this interminable strike attacking the land of entertainment. It's become a game of he said, she said and I don't know who's telling the truth and who's lying. (I'm sure both are doing both.) And quite honestly, I don't really care - I just want it to end. It feels like everything is in a holding pattern until this is over, including my ability to make decisions for myself about my wants and desires and my life. For a while, this has actually been good for me since I tend to spend such ridiculous amounts of time trying to figure out what I should do with my life and end up getting so overwhelmed and anxious about the whole thing that I never get anywhere. So I've sat with where I am. For the past 6 weeks, I've patiently sat with where I am. And I've mostly been OK with that. I've even enjoyed the challenge of slowing down my ever swirling brain. But these days I find myself staring blankly at the computer screen for far longer than I could ever imagine possible due to the lack of creative energy (or any energy for that matter) flowing through these halls. I find my fingers hovering idly over the keyboard waiting for something mildly interesting to flow out. I surf the web, looking for something, anything to bring me some ounce of mental stimulation. It's not that the stimulation I had pre-strike was so immense - but it was better than nothing which is what I've got now.
Today, I'm tired of it. Today, I can't sit where I am. Today, I want to move forward...catapult myself out of this cubicle and into the world that I am certain I belong in if I could only figure out what it is. I know it is fulfilling and intellectually stimulating and challenging. I know it has me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I know it has me doing something that feels good. Something that fills me up so that my head doesn't have to spin because it's busy taking care of the things that are demanded of me.
And I think about that and I look at where I am, where I have been, and those pictures don't match. They aren't those two pictures sitting side by side that challenge you to look closely to figure out what's different. They are drastically different pictures.
I met a healer about a month ago by happenstance. She was helping make a documentary for which my husband was being interviewed. We spoke for a little while about not much at all and then she looked at me and said, "You need to work on your fifth chakra - it's your chakra of communication and creativity."
"Interesting," I responded, mildly skeptical of her assessment.
"Once you open up your fifth chakra, you'll figure out what you want to do with your life. You'll know."
I looked at her, my eyes open wide like a child's. How on earth did she know that I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life? And not in a casual, "Well, someday I'll figure it out" sort of way...In an "it plagues me that I don't know" sort of way. She understood that...saw it in me.
I started this post to bitch about the rain. I erased about 10 things that I wrote, unable to find any sort of flow or value in my words. Until I decided to stop censoring and just write. The beauty of a day like this is that I had no idea that this is where this post would go or that it was even what I was thinking or feeling. The beauty of a day like this is that I have been reminded that I need to work on my fifth chakra.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 4:30 PM 1 comments
Labels: introspection, meltdowns
I know. It's just a blog.
Monday, December 17, 2007
I've been working on this new look all day. I finally decided that I had to let go and move forward. I know it's just a blog. But I liked it the way it was.
I eventually came up with what you are currently looking at and it's just fine. Because at the end of the day, as I was reminded last Friday, it's the words that count.
But for this moment, I have no more words. I have been depleted by this crap. I am not digitally inclined. I remember feeling incredibly proud of myself when I first set up my blog. I had figured out how to do what was probably basic to most but for me, was quite an accomplishment.
This time I just felt pissed. Especially because everything that I'd worked so hard for was inexplicably taken away. I KNOW. It's just a blog. But it's MY BLOG. And I spent hours on Friday and again this morning trying to get it back to it's original look. I wasn't excited the way I had been the first time. I got more and more frustrated and exacerbated until it became clear to me that I couldn't really think anymore. I realized I was having a meltdown over a blog and I decided to let it go. Because it is just the look of my blog.
I used up all of today's brain power and then some. So tomorrow, I'll write something prolific.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 2:35 PM 1 comments
