It’s Tuesday right now.
Of course, you are reading this on a Wednesday. Or, if you are like me (and hate google reader), you are reading this 2 months from now on a lovely March day while preparing your liver for St. Patricks Day and stomach assaulting *Irish carbombs.
Either way. I’m writing this yesterday. (That sentence makes little sense but also blew my mind.)
So, the reason why I’m writing this a day before and using the romantic ability to plan a later publish date is on the day you read this I’m going to be in the hospital. Hopefully. Not for an unending case of the sads- which I’m still going through, despite my attempts to be witty and throw you off with Irish drinking throw ins. No, I’m going to be at the hospital because my hair if falling out. In.. clumps. And there’s the problem of getting less than two hours of sleep each night. (Which, almost sounds bearable but less than 2 hours of sleep a night while teaching children a unit on sound, resulting in 17 eight year olds using tuning forks and banjos each morning and **sleep sort of becomes crucial). And (IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE GROSS THINGS, STOP READING RIGHT NOW), there’s the tiny issue of my fingernails all starting to die. Or fall off or something. I assure you, it’s less gross than I just made it sound.
(I started to try and make that fingernail thing sound better, but you know those situations where you try to make something sound better so badly that it ends up sounding ten times worse and scaring people? Yeah. So delete, delete, delete).
MOVING ON.
It’s snowed over 4 feet here now. FOUR FEET. FOUR FEET. I’m blaming all these health issues on the snow and being cold (which makes sense since I just spent 5 days in Las Vegas when I was a sweatasaurous), but let’s ignore that. I’m blaming the snow. Because the idea that my hair is falling out, I could use the hives on my limbs to connect Ursa Major and my body is basically quitting on me due to the fact that my heart is shattered.. well that is just a little too much to handle right now.
So let’s blame the snow. Let’s blame it for going to bed each night soaked in sadness. Driving to work everyday, panicking because I can feel an intense and unyielding sorrow flood every inch of my body, right down to my toes. The kind of sad that seeps in- crawling through each limb causing arms and legs to turn to concrete. The kind of sad that leaves me breathless in it’s enormity and scared at it’s abilities. I blame the snow for the fact that someone I love is making all the wrong choices and I am powerless to stop it. I’m blaming snow for the hives that are leaving scars, the painful ache in my stomach that will not leave and the fact that I am up at 3 am each night watching Planet Earth, willing myself to care enough about elephants to stop crying. Let’s blame the snow for feeling…. absolutely invisible to everyone and everything. Let’s blame it for sobbing in airports and weeping in Margaritaville. Let’s blame the snow for wishing to get lost in a crowd and wondering if I would ever want to be found. Let’s blame it for feeling isolated from every single person I love. Every. Single. Person. Let’s blame the snow for feeling like whatever was ‘magic’ about me has left the building and has taken up residence in far happier girls who love cupcakes and glitter and who dot all their i’s with hearts. Girls who will never consider buying undereye concealer in bulk. Let’s blame the snow.
Let’s blame the snow for everything and then move on. Because tomorrow has to be better. Or it will be worse. But either way it will end and a new day will start. And I will still be here writing posts from yesterday.
* aka the only shot that has made me actually puke immediately after consuming. Try not to fall in love with me, okay?
** And when I say “sleep becomes crucial“, I mean, without sleep- I turn into someone who looks as sullen as Bella Swan, is as distracted as a high Courtney Love and is as emotional as that chick on Bridelplasty who didn’t win a damn thing.
Writing to you from yesterday
It’s Tuesday right now.
Of course, you are reading this on a Wednesday. Or, if you are like me (and hate google reader), you are reading this 2 months from now on a lovely March day while preparing your liver for St. Patricks Day and stomach assaulting *Irish carbombs.
Either way. I’m writing this yesterday. (That sentence makes little sense but also blew my mind.)
So, the reason why I’m writing this a day before and using the romantic ability to plan a later publish date is on the day you read this I’m going to be in the hospital. Hopefully. Not for an unending case of the sads- which I’m still going through, despite my attempts to be witty and throw you off with Irish drinking throw ins. No, I’m going to be at the hospital because my hair if falling out. In.. clumps. And there’s the problem of getting less than two hours of sleep each night. (Which, almost sounds bearable but less than 2 hours of sleep a night while teaching children a unit on sound, resulting in 17 eight year olds using tuning forks and banjos each morning and **sleep sort of becomes crucial). And (IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE GROSS THINGS, STOP READING RIGHT NOW), there’s the tiny issue of my fingernails all starting to die. Or fall off or something. I assure you, it’s less gross than I just made it sound.
(I started to try and make that fingernail thing sound better, but you know those situations where you try to make something sound better so badly that it ends up sounding ten times worse and scaring people? Yeah. So delete, delete, delete).
MOVING ON.
It’s snowed over 4 feet here now. FOUR FEET. FOUR FEET. I’m blaming all these health issues on the snow and being cold (which makes sense since I just spent 5 days in Las Vegas when I was a sweatasaurous), but let’s ignore that. I’m blaming the snow. Because the idea that my hair is falling out, I could use the hives on my limbs to connect Ursa Major and my body is basically quitting on me due to the fact that my heart is shattered.. well that is just a little too much to handle right now.
So let’s blame the snow. Let’s blame it for going to bed each night soaked in sadness. Driving to work everyday, panicking because I can feel an intense and unyielding sorrow flood every inch of my body, right down to my toes. The kind of sad that seeps in- crawling through each limb causing arms and legs to turn to concrete. The kind of sad that leaves me breathless in it’s enormity and scared at it’s abilities. I blame the snow for the fact that someone I love is making all the wrong choices and I am powerless to stop it. I’m blaming snow for the hives that are leaving scars, the painful ache in my stomach that will not leave and the fact that I am up at 3 am each night watching Planet Earth, willing myself to care enough about elephants to stop crying. Let’s blame the snow for feeling…. absolutely invisible to everyone and everything. Let’s blame it for sobbing in airports and weeping in Margaritaville. Let’s blame the snow for wishing to get lost in a crowd and wondering if I would ever want to be found. Let’s blame it for feeling isolated from every single person I love. Every. Single. Person. Let’s blame the snow for feeling like whatever was ‘magic’ about me has left the building and has taken up residence in far happier girls who love cupcakes and glitter and who dot all their i’s with hearts. Girls who will never consider buying undereye concealer in bulk. Let’s blame the snow.
Let’s blame the snow for everything and then move on. Because tomorrow has to be better. Or it will be worse. But either way it will end and a new day will start. And I will still be here writing posts from yesterday.
* aka the only shot that has made me actually puke immediately after consuming. Try not to fall in love with me, okay?
** And when I say “sleep becomes crucial“, I mean, without sleep- I turn into someone who looks as sullen as Bella Swan, is as distracted as a high Courtney Love and is as emotional as that chick on Bridelplasty who didn’t win a damn thing.