My Misery Is Miserabler Than Your Misery

My Misery Is Miserabler Than Your Misery

First off, infinite thanks for the incredible outpouring of love and support you all gave me on Monday’s post.  I knew you guys would be awesome about it, but I can’t begin to tell you how much all your kind words and encouragement mean to me. I, lover of run-on sentences, TMI, and endless rambling, can’t find enough words to express my love for you all.  So you know it’s like way huge.  🙂 An update:  The husband and I are going to a counselor this week to discuss local support group options, and talking to his primary care physician about a potential fibro specialist who may be able to give us some better tips on coping. Plus we talked/cried/hugged it out, so things are on the path to getting better. That all said, here’s today’s post: Don’t Mind Me While I Momentarily Become an Annoying Tween… Monday’s post had me entering the office Monday  morning with a particularly stormy outlook.  Having spent the weekend dwelling on a post that summed up weeks of anger and sadness and worry and stress, I’d finally begun to realize—really realize—that my husband wasn’t going to “get better” and this was going to be our life going forward. Having this hit me left me like one big raw nerve. I’ve gotten pretty good at laughing off my coworker’s Eeyore attitudes.  It’s the only way you can get through spending 8 hours a day with people without having their shoddy mindsets bring you down. But this Monday, I wasn’t in the mood for any of it.  Oh, was I not in the mood for it… So when my coworkers began their usual grumbling and groaning about all the petty hassles of being a downtrodden secretary (My printer isn’t working!  I’m only getting a 55-minute lunch…

You Have the Time

Holy freakin’ schmoley. The holidays are over, the New Year is here, and we’re all revved up to make it the best, most tail-kicking year we’ve had yet. And if you’re anything like me, you’re staring at your huge list of things you can’t wait to do/make/be this year, and you’re thinking: How in the frack will I have time for all of this?? Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret: You have the time.  Plenty of it.  You just aren’t using it right. We Doth Protest “But, Cordelia!” you say.  “You don’t understand!  I have a job, kids, errands, hobbies, 12 foster cats…I’m absolutely swamped!  I’m lucky if I have time to eat!” Well, anonymous italicized commenter I’m imagining in my head, if that really is the case, then you need to trim something, stat.  I know ultra-frazzled busyness is a badge of honor today, but you have to at least be able to eat, sleep, and breathe on a semi-regular basis.  I mean it.  Delegate the errands, foster a few less felines, and learn to be kinder to yourself.  I’ll write you a fake doctor’s note if you’re the kind that won’t slow down until someone absolutely orders you to do it. For the rest of you who do have time to eat (and accomplish a few other things), I repeat my original statement: You have the time. Whatever your dream is, whatever you oh-so-wish you could pursue but just don’t know how you’ll manage to squeeze it in, you’ve got time.  You’re just choosing to spend it somewhere else at the moment. Don’t make that face at me.  I don’t like to think of getting rid of any of my “must dos” any more than you do.  But sometimes you have to. It’s a matter…