This is me defeated ->

I’ve *tried* to be upbeat and positive in-between my whining and griping. Even with the whining and griping I’ve kept a smile. Or a least I thought I was smiling. I’m pretty sure if you roll back the tapes it’d more of a snarl.

GAH! Screw it. The Simpsons had it right when they sucked Mary Poppins into a jet engine. If you look for the silver lining you increase your chances of getting hit by lightning.

I still wonder what the hell they’re referring to when they say the best things in life are free.

I can’t even look at a couple without thinking, “So that’s the only person on Earth who can put up with them.” or “Yeah, hold hands you cowards because you know how much it costs living on your own.” The only time I regret getting a divorce is when I fear my job is on the line and the bills come due. You’re a lot more ballsy and willing to take chances in the work force when you aren’t solely responsible for mouths to feed and a roof to hold up over your child’s head.

Seriously I’ve tried everything to get myself in an upbeat mentality, everything shy of dropping myself in a vat of acid in an attempt to get that “Joker” look, “If I look like I’m smiling, perhaps I’ll believe I’m happy.” Happy? What the hell is that? Content?

Granted my boy gives me doses of happiness. I’m thankful for that. If it wasn’t for him I’d probably be in prison for stealing a small villages Christmas decorations and presents- and knocking the overly optimistic blonde girl across the Alps.

When you have mouths to feed you stuff all your natural tendencies way deep down inside in order to not rock any boats despite how miserable you are. When I use the wrong kind of kitty litter (crystals instead of … non crystals), my cat jumps into my potted plant, gives me a cold stare and then relieves himself (in the split second that it takes for me to jump off the sofa yelling, “What the HELL?!”). He was unhappy. He let me know in his own way and I went out and purchased a new brand of kitty litter. He’s now snuggling next to me instead of defecating in my foliage.

I blame this avalanche of failure on not being in a relationship. Where am I supposed to direct my frustrations and anger? On little Jonathon??? I think not. Instead I must stuff it all inside and pretend to be okay with everyone and everything that I want to yell at, “OMG- at least buy me dinner before you totally screw me.”

When throwing away my ammonia smelling plant, I felt a slight admiration for my cat. You don’t screw with him. You don’t give him less than he deserves less you want him to show you how he *really* feels. Why can’t I do that? Well I *can*, but I really don’t know if I can fit my sofa in a refrigerator box along with my TV.

Current Mood: annoyed

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