Stress Sickness

Today just isn't a good day. I'm so stressed out, I just feel sick. Of course, I'm just trying to keep everything I'm feeling closed and bottled up inside because Jeremy is stressed out, too. I know I can be very snappy when I'm stressed, and I've been working on that as well. An episode of Malcolm in the Middle keeps popping into my mind. Malcolm trys saying nothing negative for a time to see where it gets him. It actually gets things going pretty good for him. That is until he spits up blood from a bleeding ulcer that's developed as a result of witholding his sarcasm and bits of corrective information.

My apartment is too small. I despise it. The apartment manager is hateful little woman who lacks any sort of compassion. The Audi is still out of commission. I've been unemployed since October. Every time I think things may be getting better, something comes up. Almost got a job that would have been great for our situation, but as I was getting interviews set up, I lost my cell service. No job. Money sucks. Or maybe it blows... away. Seems like there is never enough. Not seems. There really isn't. We're surviving, but I wouldn't call it living. To live, we'd have to ignore responsibility.

The depression keeps cycling. Even when I'm not totally stressed. Some days are just so awful for me. I can't cope with life. I just want to curl up in bed, cry, sleep, and do nothing else. Most days it's hard to drag myself out of bed. Somedays, once I do I can trudge through the day. Somedays are good. Somedays I'm just not getting out of bed except because I simply have to, and then I'm running on minimum capacity.

Right now I'm thinking about everything I have to do this weekend, and with the way I'm feeling I feel like what the hell was I thinking? I was thinking my baby girl is turning One! So much to do. One large purple kangaroo cake to feed 20+ people, plus a small cake for Potato. Plus we're grilling, at the park, which not everybody was keen on. Tough for them. Plus this, plus that, etc. It better be sunny, or I'm murdering a meteorologist, and I don't care which one. It doesn't feel like it's been a year since the midwife put that baby girl on my chest and my Potato raised her head to look up at me. It's gone by way too fast. On the other hand, I think of how much she's grown, how smart she is, how funny she is, and about how excited she is going to be when her own personal cake is set before her to enjoy as she sees fit. She's such a silly baby. She makes me laugh with her love of all things feet. She loves shoes, socks, playing with her toes and sucking on them. She even occasionally attacks my feet! She bosses her siblings around, despite being the runt. She's constantly into everything, and wants that keyboard now! And I need to go charge video camera batteries, and digital camera batteries.

I'm now going to go distract myself with something crafty and put a blade to good use. No pics for now. Maybe later.