Originally written/posted;
Friday, June 20, 2008
I hate everybody and I’m never leaving the house again.
So there.
I mean, aside from having to take Toby out. In the dark.
I have had a shitty week, plain & simple. It’s not one of those fucked up weeks, just shitty. The kind where you’re just plagued by little dumb things like dumping your purse on the floor of the car, whacking your gimpy arm (or as the girls call it; my ’strong arm’. If you’ve seen Scary Movie 2, you’ll know what I’m talking about) on door frames, your hair never going right, driving all the way to Sunset in the freakin’ heat w/ no a/c just for Chinese, thinking you’re cool because you made it before they closed and some snobby soccer mom in front of you, knowing your behind them, loudly orders the remainder of the eggrolls AND potstickers!
So this is how the week started…I was walking Toby, and I had gotten brave, I went a different route and at an earlier time of day. So I’m walking past a house w/ a huge backyard that spills out into an extra side yard, there are several 4 to 6 year olds swinging & meandering about and one of them catches sight of me going by w/ Toby and I hear him say; ‘Look, A Fat Old Lady Walking Her Little Dog.’ Then one of the other kids mimics what the first just said and by the time I get past the house, a few of them have repeated it in monotone, you know how little kids are, I mean, if they meant to be snot heads, they’d have said it louder and in a sing-song, but the kid was just making an observation. I was shocked & embarrassed for about 2.5 seconds, then I realized, I always get defensive too quick, they were young kids, that’s what kids do, they were making an obviously correct observation and ya, someone my age would look ‘old’ to a five year old.
I came home & told Cajun about it, got it off my chest and put it in context, but it kind of defined my week from there on out, stuff kept happening that just hurt my fat old feelings and caused me to ponder my purpose on the planet more vividly than usual.
I’m rarely happy. I have those brief moments of happiness, but not significant lengths of time where I’m content and just living my life.
So we decided I need a change. If you remember last year, I went through a hair dying fiasco, I think most of it was because it was during my Father’s illness and passing away, and I could control all the bizarre shit I was doing with my hair when everything else was out of control. I ended up cutting a foot of it off, cuz I’d fried it. I’ve let it grow out, but everything that grew out was still fried.
So I went & had it cut. I mean cut. I haven’t had my hair this short since I was like, ten. It was the year Grease came out in theaters, I know that much. It’s short, but I like it, I swear I feel 5 pounds lighter! In all, they cut off about ten inches.
So go on a diet and lose weight you say..? I’m working on it. And that’s a story I don’t have the energy to go into right now. Just when I think I’ve gotten to the source of the problem, and start heading in the right direction, I de-rail myself.
So in conclusion, I’m sticking with my familiar route and early evening walk time which is just before it’s too dark to see, that’s all I need, trip & fall in a ditch & end up re-breaking my arm and being trampled by a field of mommy & baby cows.
I was proud of myself for getting out of the house in the first place & walking everyday. I’ve been skipping days this week, I guess the kid thing bugged me more than it should have. So I’m trying to talk myself into getting back on track. Maybe I should think about getting a tread mill.
~AFOLWHLD
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