I am in a funk. It's confirmed.
I could sit and write a diatribe about my worries. Except, it would not be a good read. I could only disclose bits and pieces, leaving you, my loyal reader confused. And you would likely leave and not look back, because no matter how entertaining my daughter's antics are, no one enjoys being confused.
But still, I can't escape the funk and I will write anyway.
In my house, there's a paticular conversation had more frequently than others. It goes like this...
"What do you want for dinner?" my husband will ask.
"I dunno. I don't want Italian. And I don't want chicken"
"I didn't ask what you don't want, I asked what you do want," he'll retort.
And I get his point, but that's just the way I work. I am often a glass half empty kind of girl. That doesn't mean I don't love life and try to live it to its fullest. It just means I'm more apt to see the bottle of wine and think, damn there's only a third of it left. I better refill my glass now before he drinks it all.
So in honor of a good funk, I will give you the list of half empty thoughts I had in my car, driving the 13 minutes home from Barnes and Noble.
- If you see me in the parking lot, dragging a crying child in one hand and my other is loaded down with bags, you have no right to express your impatience with me that I'm not vacating the spot you covet fast enough. Pick another spot or deal.
- I hate when daffodil blooms die, you can't cut them back or you'll affect the blooms the following season. It's unsightly. When they're done flowering, I just want to get rid of them.
- I don't like speed cameras. But the ones I really hate are the moveable box ones that may or may not be there the day you drive by them. They should all be permanent.
- If your grass is that lush and green this time of year, you use too much water and too many chemicals. You need to cut back on your consumption of both.
- I despise when my child is in the car and I have to play games and sing songs to keep her from falling asleep. Yet, at home she avoids sleep like the plague. It's a very unfair aspect of parenting.
- I don't like the lawn bag displays in some neighborhoods. I have no real valid reason. I just don't. I don't like driving through a neighborhood and seeing brown paper bag after bag neatly lined up next to the side walk waiting to be disposed of. It seems Iike a rediculous contest in which home owners see who can out bag each other.