I’m alright, I’m alright, don’t worry I’ll be fine.

Today’s blog title song quote is from “You Won’t See Me Cry” by Sue Medley.  I’d link a video, but apparently there isn’t one, except for some stupid fan video for some couple on some TV show that I have no idea what it is.  There’s all this dialogue playing on top, which makes impossible to hear how pretty the song is.  ON TOP OF THAT, the song is from Dawson’s Creek, fuckers.  Not whatever this is.

(Pacey and Joey forever, by the way)

I don’t think anyone could say it better than my husband.  Because he’s smart and literate and shit. But what I think I’ve got is MALAISE.  Or maybe ENNUI.  Maybe I just like words that sound fancier than “I’m feeling…meh.”

I get up, I go to work.  I get stressed out, or I don’t.  I go home.  I put on the same comfy clothes pretty much every night, pretty much the second I get home.  I do some cleaning. I eat a bowl of pasta.  I watch some TV. I look at pretty pictures online.  Maybe I take a Xanax.  Maybe I take an Ambien.  Or maybe I’m exhausted enough of my own to crawl into bed (usually before 930pm).  Wake up at around 530am or so, and repeat the cycle.

I spend a lot of time alone these days.  It’s a state of being that I’m becoming more and more comfortable with, and more and more okay with.  I’ve always had problems with social anxiety – DREADING social interaction.  But this isn’t so much dreading as it’s a feeling of “Eh, you know, attaching myself to the couch all night isn’t such a bad idea.”  

I’m not having an overwhelming feeling of THE SAD, per se.  I’m just not feeling very interested in a lot of things at the moment.  For a variety of reasons, I am just drained.  I have hit maximum capacity for what I can take, and it’s as if my psyche is just saying…“Yeah, you know what? No.”   As if I’m just shutting down for a while.  I hold back a lot of anger, exasperation, and emotions along those lines.  So I just need to detach and recuperate. Or something.

There’s also the fact that I’m dieting and trying to quit smoking.  So, my desire to do anything or go anywhere with a) caloric value and b) temptation to smoke is…well, it’s actually very high, but I am trying to avoid those triggers as much as I can.  I only get 26 points in a day, folks.  Coors Lights are 4 points a piece. YOU DO THE MATH. And while my alcoholic tolerance since losing 11 pounds in 2 months (so far…) has certainly decreased, I tend to forget that.  Add on the drunken munchies, and well, then I’m just screwed.  And losing weight is important to me.  I haven’t found the “balance” yet, and until I do, I won’t be comfortable in the majority of social situations.

Hm. I’m not comfortable in the majority of social situations anyway so HEYYYYY. Nothing’s new, I suppose.

I’m torn between wanting to be surrounded and wanting to be left the fuck alone.  I want people to worry, but I don’t want people to worry. Very little seems to be true and genuine.  I don’t want to be bothered with what’s NOT.  But the line is very blurred, it seems.

In other news, I’m in desperate need of a mani/pedi. But even that seems overwhelming at the moment.  It’s one thing to just sit and do nothing because you CHOOSE to.  It’s completely another to spend an hour (or more) bored out of your mind, staring into space while some lady is drilling at your (fake) nails while talking shit with the other manicurists (in another language).  You know it’s true.  Like, DAMN.  If you’re going to talk shit about that crazy chick getting the spa pedicure in the corner, yeah, you know the one…HER…, at least let me in on the joke and let me talk some shit with ya!

Oh, would you look at the time.  It’s 820pm!  Which means that bedtime could be coming soon.  I’ve got a long day of paperwork meetings and looking for needles in haystacks at work, so I best better be in good form.

This skit from SNL this past weekend made me laugh super hard.  And despite the chick’s complete inability to sing, I really dig this song.

 

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About meredithelaine

thirty-something. karaoke diva. just trying to get by.
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