Ok.. i figure Sunday is a good day for confessions... nothing that horribly juicy, it may raise an eyebrow but nothing that terribly exciting.. my blog. . I don't have to excite you.. so there.
Confession number 1: My moms visits are always so nice, but I always dread thinking she is going to suggest we go to Mass. I am Catholic but I refer to myself as out of practice. I haven't been to church in years, mostly because I have an issue with God... I am angry. I know I am not supposed to be, and yes I have been invited to about half a dozen churches and bible studies.. its not my religion I am mad at.. Its God himself. I just figure he and I will work it out in time. I am not ready to stop being mad yet, and everytime I think their is the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel he slaps me again. So not yet..maybe next week... maybe not ever.. but who's to say.
Confession number 2: I got my nails done.. its not a record shaking event... but.. my mom paid for me to get my nails done.. the confession is... after having them done as much as I love them and I did miss them, they haven't given me that warm fuzzy feeling I was hoping for. they are pretty I am glad I got them done, but it doesn't fix anything other then giving me the angst of worrying how I will have the 12 dollars every two weeks to keep them up.
Confession number 3: I need a break. i need 24 hours to just decompress. Its not the kids, the husband, or anything else.. It in turn is just EVERTHING all at once. .. its just mental how things can blow up and make things seem worse then they are.
Confession number 4: When does trying become not enough? I hear "I am trying....." and you have to wonder when trying is just not enough anymore.. I am exhausted and I am fed up. And I am totally finished with the aspect of the word try.. Quoting Yoda: Don't try. DO.
Confession number 5: Aggrivation. I grew up hardly ever hearing curse words.. now I am married to someone who thinks the only way to speak is to use the F word. When did our society become so politically correct that it is ok to speak and then use the phrase "I am a sailor" whatever.. i am sure the crackerjack kid never told someone he "swabbed the fing deck, sir" He won't cuss when his parents are here and gasped at me when I said "damn" in front of them.. but he has such little respect for my mother that he can't speak without a curse word. Why is it different? Why is it ok to swear like a thoughtless neanderthal in front of my mother, but its not ok to do it in front of his parents.. double standard much?
Confession number 6: and my last one.. I am sorry this blog wasn't witty.. I am not feeling witty today. I am feeling disenchanted and pissy. and well quite frankly.. OVER it.