It's true. As you might have gathered from this week's Things that Piss Us Off Thursday post, I'm a complete stress case over here. And I'm mad at myself for spending so much energy worrying about something, that's in the grand scheme of things, very very minor. So yeah, the fact that I can't let this roll of my back? That's stressing me out even more.
Don't you wish you could hang out with me right now? Don't I just seem so fun?
I've been trying so hard to push my feelings out of the way and be my normal old funny self, but, as evidenced by the complete lack of humorous posts for the past one zillion weeks, that approach has clearly been a massive fail.
D- on the stress management, Amy! D-.
Now before you get yourself all worked up, rest assured that this is really nothing huge. The fact is, we own our own business, and when you own your own business, crappy little problems creep up...and then they steal your happiness and stomp on your soul while you innocently sleep in the night.
Oh wait, was that dramatic?
It's just a business-related blip, that's really (truly, honestly) all it is. I just wish my feelings would act accordingly. And I wish these feelings would get out of my damn way and let me blog the way I like to.
You see, I want to tell you guys that it's a horrible idea to let an almost six-year-old chose his own party supplies from the dollar store--really, take my word on that. From the inflatable hats that won't hold air, to the strange-ass-eighty-year-old-woman cat figurine that he wants to use as a cake topper--it's a terrible, meltdown inducing idea for so. many. reasons.
And I want to tell you about the morning I looked at the ten teenagers and two Mormon missionaries sitting in my basement at 6:27, felt like my poor innocent house was being completely violated, and I couldn't stop myself from screaming this:
I'M NOT A YELLER! I HATE YELLING! I LIKE SWEARING A WHOLE LOT MORE! BUT JESUS IS WATCHING THIS CLASS, SO I HAVE TO YELL AT YOU ALL INSTEAD! JUST IMAGINE ME SWEARING RIGHT NOW.....THE BAAAAAAD ONES!
Or yesterday, when a disgustingly smelly hippy showed up at my door asking me to sign his petition--it had something to do with the evils of BPA in our plastic products. I nodded in agreement, damned BPA to hell, and left him with my emotional testimony of how desperately I long to protect my children from the toxic chemicals of our fallen world.
Yeah, well, it turns out Maggie was standing behind me the entire time--sippy cup in one hand, 99 cent pitcher from WalMart in the other, begging for a sip of orange juice. You could pretty much smell the BPA wafting out from under our front door. Whoops!
Hey. Guess what? I'm already feeling better. Like much, much better--maybe even like my good old normal self....
Man I love you guys!