Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Sun Will Come Out...

So you how sometimes you have a really overwhelming, emotional day and the timing is totally wrong for PMS so you realize these feelings must be legitimate?  That was yesterday for me.  It started off badly and took me completely off guard.  Joe barged into the bathroom while I was still getting ready because we were both running late and I became irrationally angry.  Later, when I couldn't find my other shoe, I found myself dabbing away hot tears.  I had to fight back tears twice more at work for no discernible work-related reason.  When I finally got home, Joe greeted me at the door with Lily in his arms, saw my face, asked what was wrong, which apparently was very upsetting to me, and I proceeded to cry into his shoulder for 15 minutes while he stroked my hair and looked, I presume, thoroughly confused. 

I think all the pent up stress and anxiety and the smiling and the saying the right things at the right times and the attempting to balance everyone's expectations associated with this wedding came to a head.  Probably because I made the mistake of looking at a calendar and realizing just how crazy soon March is.  And because the first ginormous payment to our venue is due next week.  And because people.  I mean, people, right? 

I think being kind is important.  I think the high road is a good place to be.  I've never in my life told anyone to fuck off.  Though I have stayed up at night fantasizing about it a time or two.  I've always opted for the deep breath, the walking away, the holding my tongue, the giving the benefit of the doubt, the being polite even when my insides are twisting and turning and my blood is boiling and I can feel a tingling sensation in my palms.  I swallow it and come home to Joe and rant and rave and say things like can you fucking believe it and who does he think he is approximately 17 million times until we're both exhausted.  Then I stay awake at night because saying it to Joe is really pretty unsatisfying and, just once, I want to be the person who says the thing they're thinking to the person they're thinking it about at the exact time when that person really, really has it coming.  And so I stay up and think about exactly how that would go and what I would say and how good that would feel. 

I've never once done it and probably never will.  Stupid high road.

This sounds pretty melodramatic, but really everything is fine and good and exciting.  Really.  I'm just overwhelmed this week and need a nap or seven. 

In other news the Powerball is up to $550 million and my office has a pool.  So things could be, like, way better tomorrow.