I’ve noticed that whenever there’s something rather negative to talk about, I usually use generalizations. Or go off on some pseudo-philosophical tangent about life. But whenever there’s something positive to be said, I’ll spill a bunch of details and be all happy-cheery-sickeningly-sweet-and-nausea-inducing.
Maybe I just don’t like remembering all the things that went wrong or list off the ways that people hurt my feelings. Or maybe I just like to pretend that I’ve gotten a thicker skin while growing up. Which is a complete lie, by the way – I’ve just gotten a lot better in hiding things.
Like really, who wants to rehash the details about the crap that got thrown at them (figuratively). I’ve just outright stopped mentioning (I think for the most part) whenever I get into a fight with Clay, or whenever he cancels on me. I think it’s mostly because he reads this thing now, but it’s also because it’s just so damn negative and I get annoyed whenever I reread things. Back in December, I was rereading my blog entries and I actually started counting the number of times that he had canceled on me. You don’t want to know what the number was (also, I’ve forgotten it as well). It’s not healthy to think about all the ‘crappy things’.
But it’s really difficult to do that when nothing has been going right in the last two weeks. I mean… Work’s been going incredibly slow because I’m just not getting anything done because everyone else is slowing me down. I’ve been having fights with my dad nearly every single day. I’ve cried 5-6 times in the last two weeks. I’ve gotten very little sleep. I haven’t been eating properly (and subsequently have lost weight). Oh, I also dropped 3 stitches in one of my knitting projects 16 rows back, so I’m slowly undoing that as well (I’m obviously crap at counting consistently). Plus, I managed to poke myself in the stomach with a beading needle, dropped a bottle of seed beads (which wasn’t as closed as I thought it was!) on carpet and burned my wrist on the stove.
It has been a lousy two weeks.