Put On Your Sunday Best And Fake A Smile



I’m enveloped in lethargy.

I don’t want to write. I don’t want to talk to anyone, in real life or on Twitter.

I have allowed laundry and dishes and chores to pile up to a shocking level.

All I want to do is sleep. Sleep snuggled up with the three year old, who asks me every day if it’s time for our nap. This is not a good habit, although it is snuggly toddlerlicious.

Is it because it’s February? I’ve always loathed February. Shortest month, and yet the longest.

Is it because I’m depressed? Well, duh, yes, but this doesn’t feel like my usual fights with that particular demon.

I just feel heavy and lazy and filled with cotton wool. I find myself envying bears, who can sleep away this most horrible of seasons.

I want to crawl into bed and read Rosemund Pilcher books. I want cups of tea and slices of crumb cake. I want to be left alone. Completely and utterly alone.

I need a week or two away somewhere, with a pile of books, no phone, no computer, nobody around. Someplace that I can just read and read and read and sleep and sleep and sleep.

I’m tired of being the grown up. I’m tired of never having a moment to myself. I’m tired of my life.

Mostly, though, I’m just tired. Bone-shatteringly, mind-numbingly tired.

…And The Horse You Rode In On

I’ve been trying with That Canadian Boy I Married. He complains that we don’t have enough sex. It’s true, we don’t. I just don’t feel like it. I don’t know if it’s the depression, the complete and utter stress of having no money and no job prospects, the issues I’m having with Boo or a bit of everything but sex is the last thing I want to do. I enjoy it once we’re into it but I don’t initiate it. Ever. I’d rather read a book or go to sleep than have sex. But I’ve been trying the whole fake it ’til you make it thing, on the theory that if I keep at it, I’ll get my mojo back.

And for a bit it was working. We were getting along well and had a nice weekend, which is unusual. I spend most of the weekend wishing that it were Monday and that he’d go back to work because he picks fights with me all weekend and I’m none too pleasant to be around either.

Today, though, he told me I never thought of anyone but myself. This was brought on by a bank deposit, of all things. I drove to one bank, took out some money and put it in the other bank so that a bill could get paid. This has left us with about $40 for the rest of the week. We need diesel (that’s another post), which takes $15. We have food and milk and don’t need anything else. I thought keeping the cash in my pocket would be better. Less chance of it getting frittered away with his trips to Wendy’s or the little market for sodas.

He told me I was being selfish because now he doesn’t have any money. He wouldn’t answer me when I asked what he needed money for right this second but he was pissy and rude and talking to me like I was a child. He doesn’t want to discuss the amounts of money he’s wasted on beer or hockey when we don’t really  have the money to spare, just on the fact that I have money in my pocket so I’d better not waste it.  On what?? Jesus. What am I going to buy with 25 fucking dollars?

I am redoubling my job hunting efforts. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand to be treated like this, blowing hot and cold, talking to me like I’m some sort of dim-witted simpleton. He’s going to throw it in my face that he makes the money right now and yes, he does, but that doesn’t give him the right to be the only one who has access to it. I’m not out buying shoes and handbags and clothes. I shop at the Salvation Army, for god’s sake, when I do need something. I scour the sales flyers. I am careful with the money. And I don’t need this shit.

Testing, Testing

OK,  let’s see if this works….

I’m sure I’m going to have a million questions about this platform. Like, can I customize my template or do I have to use what’s offered. Can I make posts private or can I only do that on the version of WordPress that you have to pay for?  And will anyone follow me if I switch?


I’m attempting to start a WordPress blog. Bear with me while I sort this crappe out. God, I suck at change.

A link would help, huh? https://majorbedhead.wordpress.com/

More On Boo

I took Boo to look at a new school today. Well, day care, really, but I’m calling it school because that’s what she’s used to. She seemed to like the place and was bummed that she couldn’t stay. She’s going to start there in 2 weeks. She needs it. I need it. I really hope it will help with her behaviour.

Sometimes I think maybe it is all me. When I take her places like that or over to my sister’s, she behaves pretty well. She doesn’t bounce, she listens to what she’s told and she never stamps her feet or sits there in a huff. She was great today at the new school but as soon as we got in the car, she started hitting her sister and yelling at me about something. Honestly, at this point, I just tune it out.

It’s maddening and depressing as hell when I let my mind go down that path and believe me, it’s a path it goes down a million times a day. What am I doing wrong? I’m sure I’m screwing her up for life somehow, otherwise she wouldn’t behave this way, right? If she can control herself at school and at my sister’s, why can’t she do it when she’s with me? I know she’s capable of doing it so why can’t she do it all the time?

I was thinking about this last night, when I should have been sleeping but was instead waffling back and forth between beating myself up and wondering if maybe she’d always been like this.

And then I remembered this:

She’s been doing this since she could stand and jump. So maybe it’s not just me. Maybe this is just how she is. In a weird way, I kind of hope so because thinking that I’ve done something to so screw up my own child is a horrible thought to have.