Bleak House

It’s been one of these periods where being in my own skin irritates me. Nothing satisfies me for more than about five minutes, and then I’m done. It is as if I need to keep trying to find something to distract me but nothing lasts long, leaving me wandering for the next shiny object that I pray will hold me. Before any real enjoyment sinks in, I am bored, antsy, and uncomfortable with an urge to move on but without any idea to what.

I am annoying myself, my own company is bothersome, boring, and without any redeeming feature. So yes, that means a tiff with TGF. Over a movie. Not what movie to see, or whether to go or not. She had a craving to watch a favorite of hers, Independence Day with Will Smith. I found it trite, full of hubris and the plot easy to guess. About half way through I said as much. She, not surprisingly, took offense and said I was ruining one of her favorite movies. Being especially foul tempered I unplugged my laptop and went to leave the room rather than doing anything humane, such as apologizing and saying “I think it best if I let you enjoy it”. Again, not surprisingly, she got angry at my dramatic gesture that followed my surly tirade dissing a favorite movie. She left for a bit. I emailed an apology. She came back still pissed at me. Words were shared, none awful, but nothing resembling resolution. I quietly and without flair left the room.

Lying in the dark of the bedroom I wallowed in some tears and pined over the fact that at nearly eleven o’clock at night there was no one to call or visit with and I knew of no cafes that would be open with the right amount of busy to fade into a corner and sulk. Generally feeling sorry for myself because I don’t even want my own company right now. As stealthy as possible I glided in the living room to once again pick up my laptop so I could write this incredibly sad sack piece.

At moments like this one I balance between knowing it will all get better, my ship will right itself and fearing that I will sink to the murky bottoms where my worst self exists. I do not have nearly enough fingers and toes, even adding the furry digits of all my animals to count how many times I have felt I was going to sink forever. The only comforting thought is that it seems (though I may be deluding myself) that there are fewer of these episode as the years move forward. What I think I would like is to go alone somewhere, just for a few hours- not very long most likely- because it’s bad enough I have to experience this but to have someone witness it, try to appease the unappeasable it is just too much. However it is just as likely that I could wake up in the morning and this malaise, this heavy cloak of bitch will be gone. Or not. It is the “or not” that is a bit daunting. Trying to plan a course of action when inertia is my preferred mode right now is quite challenging because in reality there isn’t a blessed thing I want to do. I certainly hold no expectation of TGF knowing what to do for me but I really do not want to inflict another day like today on us.

If only there were an all night ice parlour, all would be right in my world.

(Most excellent 300th post, no?)