Ooooh, I am in a funk tonight. It’s like the monstrous throbbing pimple that has been my mood all week has finally finished brewing and has splatted on the bathroom mirror. I would like to beat the stuffing out of all my pillows with a tennis racquet, or maybe my big metal whisk since I don’t own a tennis racquet. I would like a tray of double fudge brownies with valium cream cheese icing, followed immediately by a week on the beach in Hawaii.
Rational Kay knows she has a pretty decent life. She is well aware that her bills are paid, her health is decent, and nifty people love her. Irrational, overtired, and (quite possibly) hormonal Kay would like to crawl into the spare bed downstairs where no one will think to look for her with a few books and a black forest cake. She would like to stomp around the house with a belligerent storm cloud over her head like a character from a comic strip. She would like to drop dinner plates and light bulbs and and old bubble front television from the roof of her garage onto the driveway because she thinks the sounds of things breaking might be soothing right now.
I will shift back to the first person point of view now before I drown in the sludge of my melodrama. It’s an ugly way to go.
On days like today, I sit with my boys and gather myself. Sometimes I purge my emotions on my wee blog, but I think you know that. I also like to look at photos like this:
I am sure dogs are the cure for bad moods, especially old photos of completely adorable puppies. I have a small arsenal of them, and some days I think my purpose in life may be to end all the world’s conflicts by sharing them.
Tomorrow will be better. I will not break anything or even attempt to climb on the garage roof, because a broken limb right now will not help me scrape myself together.
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