rant

It would seem that my frustration from yesterday did not dissipate overnight like I had hoped it would.  Then again, I’m not sure why I expected it to since Evie is in the throes of teething and wanted to use me as a pacifier all night long.  My rest wasn’t exactly restful.

My resentment, therefore, has only multiplied and today hasn’t gotten off to a very good start.  I suppose this means I should be paying extra attention to “Blue’s Clues” this morning, as the lesson is in how to best deal with frustration (”Stop.  Breathe.  And think!”).  Somehow, though, I just don’t think that’s going to work for me today.

Thank you to everyone who posted words of encouragment on my little rant yesterday.  I was worried that my hormones had gotten the better of me and that I had overreacted.  And while I probably did at least a little, hearing that what this office did was pretty shitty after all really helped.  So thanks.  Sometimes, a person just needs to hear that they aren’t completely batshit crazy.

Today would be the day I would normally post a WordPress Bootcamp but you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not exactly feeling it.  I might do it tomorrow or I might put it off until next week.  We’ll see how many chidren survive the day today and how I feel about life at the end of it.

Is it possible to be both angry and tired at the same time?  And when I say angry, I really mean a range of negative emotions that include frustrated (”Stop.  Breathe.  And think!”), sad, guilty, annoyed, and resentful.  I feel so angry that I practically shake.  And at the same time, I’m so tired that I feel like I could fall asleep right here (perhaps even with my eyes open).  I want to crawl up into bed (perhaps even alone for a change, no offense, Evie) and sleep for weeks on end.  I want to just forget my responsibilities and float away.  At least for a little while (until the guilt got to be too much).

See, even now I’m feeling guilty for this post even existing and I’m tempted to just erase it and pretend it never existed.  But I’m going to go ahead and post it anyhow, before I let the guilt take over.

You all are probably sick to death of hearing me complain about my laptop.  (Trust me, as sick as you are, Kile is sicker because he has to live with it 24/7.)  (And by “it”, I mean me.)

But I had to let you all know that I am NOT exaggerating when I talk about how messed up this thing is.  Which, you know, means I had to take some pictures.

That there is the underside of my laptop.  Do you see how the stickers have that funky look to them?  That’s because they’re BURNT.  From the heat.  Do you remember me talking about the heat?  It is HOT.  We can hear the fan running but it’s obviously not doing it’s job because this laptop tends to start overheating when I open up iTunes or Photoshop or somesuch.

We’re also missing one of the little rubber “feet” in the corners.  Lord knows where I went.  I don’trecall it falling off.  The “lid/screen” also lost a couple of rubber feet and I do remember that and I remember trying to stick the foot back in the hole until the foot disappeared altogether.  You know?  THE HEAT MELTED THE GLUE.

You can also seem some lovely shiny silver metal where the black paint has started to just flake off.  Not sure why it would flake off unless it’s maybe BURNT or something.

Oh and my Windows XP sticker is all peeled and warped and barely readable.  No big deal.  I’m sure I won’t need that Product Key for anything. *cough*

Wanna see the keyboard?

At first glance, it might even look like a normal laptop keyboard.  Then you realize the Windows sticker in the bottom right corner is… blank.  I think it got rubbed off?  And the Intel sticker is all crooked.  Cuz the glue is melty.  GEE I WONDER WHY.  Also of note: the Control key on the left side is gone.  Remember me mentioning that?  Yeah, it just disappeared.  So I’ve had to train my fingers to use the righthand Control key instead.  You can also see my mouse/touchpad but you can’t see how the left button won’t “click” anymore and you can hardly tell the worn off silver paint on the right button.  It’s also hard to tell how the buttons are getting so worn down that some of them (like the “n” key for some reason) have grooves worn down into the center of them.

Okay, SERIOUSLY?

This laptop isn’t that old.  And yes, I’m hard on things but COME ON.  There should be some degree of hardiness here, shouldn’t there?  Does no one take pride in their product anymore?  BAH!  Shame on you, Dell!  _{(You could make it up to me, you know, with a shiny new laptop.  Just sayin’.)}

I’m going to delve into some scary territory here, something I don’t usually discuss on this here blog:  The toilet.  More specifically, how men use the toilet.  I know.  I should have warned you, huh?  If you were eating breakfast or lunch or dinner… I apologize.  But this is a subject that causes me great amounts of wonder and disgust (ha, that was too easy!).

See, it wasn’t until I met and married Kile that I really noticed how guys like to go sit in the bathroom for ages on end.  WHAT IS UP WITH THAT?  I just plainly don’t get it.  Even on my stalling-est day, I can’t be in there more than 15 minutes without my legs going numb or just plain wanting to claw the walls (I guess it doesn’t help that we have a little claustrophobic closet for our toilet in our master bathroom).  But Kile?  Give him a magazine (doesn’t even have to be a NEW one) and he can spend a half hour, 45 minutes or MORE.

He once told me that it’s the only place he can go to be by himself.  SERIOUSLY?  Can I just take a few minutes to poke some monster-sized holes in this one?  THANKS.  I owe you one.

• First off, do I even have to mention that I get like zero time to myself?  If I do manage to get in the bathroom without Liam on my heels, then I have him literally throwing himself at the door until I’m back out.  And most times, I just quick use the bathroom while I’m in there changing Evie (our changing table is in the half bath).
• ANYHOW, if I were to take some blessed time for myself, it would NOT (I repeat, NOT) be in the bathroom.  EEE GADS.  I mean, we’re pretty awful housekeepers but even if our bathrooms were consistently sparkling, I still wouldn’t want to spend quality time in there.  It’s a BATHROOM.
• I gotta wonder why needs needs so much alone time since he gets to go to work.  Yes, I said “gets to”.  Not that work is fun, I realize that.  But shoot, even the drive into work is alone time.  No one but himself to worry about.  And at work, I’m sure there’s a time or two he can close his office door and try for a semblance of peace.  I imagine he even gets to eat his lunch most times without someone hollering at him.  MUST BE NICE.
• Lately, he’s also taken up running three times a week.  He gets up at 5:30 or so on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and goes for a run.  By himself.  He doesn’t even take a dog or anything.  Just him and his iPod.  When he gets back, he often sits downstairs checking email on his laptop or watching tv or sipping water for a while before coming up to shower and get ready for work.  If that isn’t time to himself then I obviously don’t understand the meaning of the phrase because all I can think is MUST BE NICE.
• (If you’re all wondering why I don’t get up early and go for runs or whatever it is because I’m generally EXHAUSTED by the end of the night.  There is no such thing as uninterrupted sleep when there’s a baby in the house.)

Who me, bitter?  NOPE, surely you’re talking about someone else.

The fact of the matter is that there is no such thing as time to myself anymore.  Even my showers are hurried as more often than not I hear Evie start to fuss as soon as I get the shampoo on my head.  During the day, there is MAYBE a one hour chunk of time that no one needs me.  And let me tell you, that is the best hour of my day.  Harry is still at school, Evie is napping, Liam is napping… I can actually watch what I want to watch on TV for a change (most often it’s a DVR’d episode of “Touched by an Angel”).  It doesn’t happen every day (yesterday I fell asleep with Evie because I was seriously pooped), but when it does, I cherish it.  I never know, from day to day, if Evie will sleep without my presence or Liam will get up early from his nap.  And then there are the Fridays where Harry has a half day at school (like this week, I believe?) and there is no time alone.

Lest you think I’m too much of a complainer, I realize this is par for the course in the early childhood years.  You sign up to have kids, you pretty much forfeit time for yourself.  But that’s just it, isn’t it?  Is it only the MOM who gives up her privacy (and sanity) and Dad doesn’t have to?  How is that fair?

(And I can just hear my mom’s voice in my head, saying that because he works and is the primary and only wage earner in the house, that he DESERVES this time to himself because his job is HARD and supporting a family is HARD.  I do get that.  But I also get that staying at home with kids all day can quickly drain your sanity when there is no break and no outside influences.)

So yeah.  This is why guys sitting on the toilet for more than about 10-15 minutes at a time really chaps my hide.  I’d say I’m jealous but DUDE, it’s a BATHROOM.  Eww!  _{(I am jealous about the alone time though.)}