I had a bunch of stress build up over the last few days. Trying to get the house really cleaned so we have a basis to start keeping it up, an attempt to get the rest of the family used to their new role when I start classes next month, which scares me as much as starting school itself. I'm scared about Will starting elementary school, worrying about the paperwork that hasn't been completed. I hate looking out at our dead and horrible backyard with the falling down swing set and piles o' poo.
I have my period and I'm dealing with the fact that I just turned forty, my husband is fifty and all the new suitcases that came with those milestones.
You know when you get a build up of anxiety and sometimes you look for something to blame it on? I blame it on myself and end up wallowing around in self-loathing. This leads to bad choices to seek out things to poke myself with. I'll save you the details of this particular dance I did this morning and yesterday.
This all finally popped like a zit and I had a huge, unsatisfying cry this morning.
Now, I must ask a question. Is it narcissistic of me to toss myself my own birthday party a month after the fact? Is that a pathetic grab for attention or a normal, healthy thing to do? To want to celebrate and invite friends who live here close to me that didn't get to come to the birthday dinner in California?
I should just say to hell with it shouldn't I?
Amanda's beauty tip of the day: Grey hair has a different texture, what you think is frizzies may be that those hairs have gone to the silver side and need to be tamed with a flat iron.