Venting

I know I promised the month/summer in review, but I quite honestly don't have the chutzpah for it. I'm stuck in such a funk lately that even though we've had some fun times this summer, I don't want to revisit them. So I never posted beach pictures, and multiple lake weekends have come and gone without reflection or recording or even ranting.

The thing is, I started this blog NOT as a place for me to whine about shit I have no control over, or to moan and groan about how miserable I am occasionally, but as a place to chronicle the good stuff that was happening. Last summer was a great time, and I was happy, and it shows in my posts, I think. Unlike this sour, grouchy, curmudgeonly person that I don't even like much lately. I've never been a Pollyanna...I always see the half-empty side of things, but even for me, this mood is FOUL, and I don't know how to shake it.

I'm angry about so many things right now. I'm angry that Edna is sick, and I get angry with both of them for how they handle things, even though I have no right to. I'm angry that the credit card company closed my account with no notice and for no reason, after no late payments EVER. I'm angry that my car has been out of commission all summer and that Andrew and I have been stuck at home all day every day and no one seems to think that's a big deal. I'm angry with James constantly over stupid little stuff that I normally wouldn't sweat, but I know it's backed by one huge issue that I'm not over and don't know how to get past, or if it's even possible. I am angry that the summer is all but gone. I am angry that everything seems to be SO easy for everyone I know and I feel like I struggle constantly to even somewhat keep up. I am angry that I'm the person everyone calls when they have issues, the one they expect to give advice, solve problems, blah blah blah, and no one ever just calls me to talk or thinks that I might need something. I'm angry with people for thinking I'm strong, and I'd be angrier with them for thinking I'm weak.

And I am. I think I'm probably the weakest damn person I know. I'm so weak that I sit here crying while I type this. I'm so weak that I probably won't even publish this, because people I know in real life might see chinks in my armor. I'm so weak that I can't resist a bowl of Fruit Loops at 9:30 and that I deviously edit all of my pictures so no one will see my flaws. I'm so weak that I would never, in a million years, just call one of my friends and admit that I just needed someone to talk to. I'm so weak I take my issues out on other people who don't deserve them. I just might be too weak to finish this post.

Okay, it seems like I really just needed to vent...it had all bubbled over the surface a little. And at the risk of sounding bipolar, I will publish this, because it would be lame not to. And then I'm going to go to bed, because much of this is caused by self-imposed sleep deprivation...staying up late too much, and Andrew waking up too early. And things will be better in the morning.