Sometimes it's incredibly difficult to be thankful for my everyday life. Isn't that absurd? I have it amazingly easy. I have a beautiful life, really. A boy who loves me and two cats who are supremely different from each other AND other cats, but little gems, nonetheless. blah blah blah.
but some days, like today, i feel badly for myself because I have all these huge and ominous responsibilities, that i hate. i hate them. i hate work. the fact that i have to be somewhere. everything (nearly) irritates me on days like this. I shouldn't work customer service on days like this. i shouldn't have gotten dressed and shouldn't pretend that things are hunky dory on days like this. i should be a researcher with the freedom to take a personal day. i shouldn't be allowed to have contact with anyone who can't follow simple directions, or who doesn't understand that parenting really is the *only* thing they should be concerned with when they have children or people who don't know how to locate items in the library or snide teenager/early 20 something yr old girls who just are insanely arrogant. i need to stay home. in fact, i need to go home.
for something somewhere at some random time in my life, i'm home sick. i want to, with an intense desire, take my husband and my kittens and retreat. sew a white flag and wave it all the way to the country.