It’s the Little things

So, I dont grow nails easily.  Bit them clear up until I was, like, 50.  Ok, I still bite them sometimes.  but anyway, since this summer I have been obsessed.  Had them looking awesome for sons wedding ( you know in case i had to claw anyones eyes out…), but then when I went to the salon and got them “done” I succumbed to pressure and let them do gel nails over mine.  Which would have been ok had I gone back and let them take them off.  but, no.  When , a couple weeks later, they started to peel back ( kind of like your skin peels after you get a sun burn…) I went all crazy and pulled them off.  Peeled them off.  AAhhh….

That was 3 months ago.  it has taken 3 months for these tiny little nails to outgrow the damage i did when i pulled them off.  peeling, chipping, soft layers of nail.  You name it  .  But they are back.  been growing nicely for about 2 weeks.  Until Today.  Prepping for Thanksgiving I must have washed my hands 30 times.  and now my nails are almost translucent.  they’re all gonna break tomorrow, I bet. Its a little thing, I know, but man, I do love a pretty set of nails…

Of course, I love Thanksgiving too…ah well


Confess…I must

DSCN9866So, my birthday was Monday.  i have never been an “it’s my birthday, celebrate me for days” kind of person, but like most people, I appreciate a hug, a card, a gift.  I look forward to a day of “wow you’re awesome” — sue me.  I’m a little self involved.

But, i digress…

Last Saturday we received a phone call that our daughter needed some back up.  Son in law had an emergency work trip.  So I packed up a bag and headed over.  A three week old, two year old and four year old makes for a hectic house, I was happy to help.

But, as the weekend progressed and my birthday loomed…I realized that my other two hadnt called, hadnt arranged to see me over the weekend …. no cards had come in the mail, no flowers delivered.  Moms feelings were hurt.

I took a break from grammy care and went home Sunday.  Lay on the couch and had myself a good cry.  Feeling exceptionally sorry for myself, ignored, taken for granted, you name it, I felt it.  then my husband came home with the only ugly coat that London Fog had ever made, in a bag, for me.  No way, take it back.

coerced my husband into bringing up the first Christmas tree.  I always have the angel tree up on my birthday.  spent an hour setting it up, plugged it in, 2 sections of lights OUT. Of course….

So, here it was, the day before my birthday.  There was no party, no cake, no Angel Tree….poor pitiful me.

Dragged my sad self back to daughter’s house where her kids presented me with a couple of great cards :  signed by them!  and a picture that the two year old had drawn of a rainbow.  That helped.  At least someone realizes…..grammy needs a cuddle.

And then the palooza began.  Youngest daughter, husband ( during an eagles game!) , her two kids, my husband and my inlaws descended upon us.  There was CAKE!  and Cards and drawings from the babies…..AAHHH…..

What was it i was whining about??

What mess is this?

I refuse to believe this is a Pre-Christmas funk, because I just dont do that.  I prefer to think of it as post -traumatic stress syndrome.  Dramatic?  maybe, but over the past 7 or so years my life has been full of bumps, hell, downright BUMPS interspersed with immeasurable  moments of golden joy — and I think it is really beginning to take its toll.

I have said for years that I am the worst judge of character EVER.  I believe what people say to me, I am sure that I am mistaken, or to blame, if someone comes off as iffy or shady.  I let people, or in this case, institutions, in and then I am amazed, floored, downright pissed off when they let me down.

Someone said to me yesterday “Your one weakness is you dont like being told NO”.  Huh.  Like that’s ever happened.  I’ve heard and FELT no more times than I can remember.  Havent we all?  My weakness is I expect to be told “yes” when it is regarding someone or something that I believe in.

And I have reached a time in my life where I have the voice to say so.  But, I still am disappointed when I have to regroup, rethink, reexamine someone or something I have put my energy into.

And, I also, deal with the reality that every hit brings back some of the bangs of the past.

This day…

will go down as one of my most miserable in years.  Not the worst day, not a terrifying or mournful day, but damn miserable.  miserable.   Started with a miserable work meeting, followed with a miserable work phone call, drug on with me whining to my boss about how miserable my day was going.  And then, in the middle of the miserableness of  it all, the server went down.  No computer, no hard drive, no email.  Are you kidding me?  How, in today’s business world are you supposed to get anything done like this?  So miserable me sat on my miserable floor and sorted through the miserable mess of a filing system that my predecessor left me. Miserable.

And then I get home and no gin.  or wine.  Miserable.

I think I’ll move to Australia.