The Downward Spiral

Yesterday ended up being a real turd of a day.  It started with high hopes, although the lingering feeling of not wanting to get out of bed made it’s daily visit.  I fought that one off well enough, but I still didn’t want to do a thing.  It was hot outside, and I had a shit-ton of things to do, and I just wanted to kick the air down to 65 and be a worthless pile of flesh for the day.

Instead, I found time to clean up a bit and finish filling the dumpster I got for my recent basement flooding.  Oh yeah, the basement.  Some of you know my basement decided to flood last weekend, and it took four days to figure out why it was flooding.  Also in that time, my dog got sick, hurt her foot, got an ear infection, and continued to generally be a pain-in-the-ass, gotta-pee-at-3am-then-relax-in-the-mulch black lab.  The shit was piling up deep and my shovel was broken and my boots leaked.

It all came to a head yesterday.  I spent a good portion of Saturday night talking with a friend who just happens to be a single 28-year-old.  I had no intentions or expectations and really enjoyed spending that time with her, but afterward I started to think about the day that will come when the single girl I’m talking to isn’t a friend, and I’m hoping for more than that.  That started my downward spiral for the weekend.  By Sunday night I was sobbing over cancer meds that remain in her bathroom cupboard.  I snapped at the cats, the dog, and the seven-year-old.  It all went to shit in a hurry.

Today felt like a hangover.  I was tired and again didn’t want to do anything.  I managed to get to the office for an hour or so and did a few things, but still felt guilty about not putting in the time that I expect my employees to put in.  I ran some errands.  I went to the car dealer to talk about a car. Yes, I just bought a Jeep a few weeks ago, and I’m not getting rid of the Jeep.  Yes, I know.  I had lunch and a couple drinks at the new Pub, and the day has been improving.  I got a text from the other person in my shitty widowed-at-40 club and she and I are gonna go out Thursday and eat and drink until we share cab fare.

I’m taking a break from Twitter.  I’m slowing Facebook.  I’m finding more time for myself and more time for my responsibilities.  I’m not asking for more help, because I choose not to ask for more help.  The days aren’t always better, but this day is getting better.

5 comments

  1. sashalyn says:

    Do whatever the fuck you want. I’ll miss you during the slowdown on the interwebs, but I’ll be here when you get back. Sorry the shit is so deep, dude. Don’t forget, no matter what- you’re awesome.

  2. Sheila Magnus says:

    You are a talented writer. Your blog is so honest and well written. I have no agenda other than to recognize your gift. Keep writing :)

  3. Just wanted to say that I hope that damn basement dries out, the dog perks up, and each day shines a little more—-I can’t comprehend all you are going through–and how much it must still hurt—but take your time and take care of yourself.

  4. Maris says:

    So sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine. Plastic durable nylabones will occupy the dog. My big dogs have them for years. Your dog must be so confused as to where dawn’s gone. I’m a hugeeeee animal lover. My Doug’s are my best friend’s. I feel for her…and of course all of you. Very very heartbreaking. :(

  5. Maris says:

    * dog’s

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