Oh yikes, I am crankalicious. Chalk it up to hormones, boredom, or the unceasing grim, grubby weather; my former good mood is somewhat squelched. Instead it seems I must contend with a long series of grumpy-making events. And where better than to have a right good whinge but in my pajamas and furry slippers in front of the internets.
Firstly there are the minor annoyances- not one but two buttons on my coat suddenly came off during yesterday’s walk, leaving my delicate flesh at the mercy of the biting wind, and looking sloppy besides. The prices in my favourite lunch place were raised today, and my carefully calculated change was not
enough. How dare they? Despite a futile scrabble in my wallet for additional change, I had to beg the extra 7p off my companion.
After which I managed to dump half my coffee down my front. Huzzah.
Then there is the recent electricity bill. Oh, I wish to weep. It would seem that for the past year or so we have been somehow underpaying. The reckoning is a vast, ghastly invoice. I am now completely horrified at how much it is costing to heat our flat, and spent the weekend running around after E. turning off all the lights in his wake.
Also, can I just say: South Dakota. Um, what the fucking fuck is going on?
Then there is my grand plan, which has hit a minor snag. I shall almost certainly find a way around the problem, but to go my desired route will now entail a certain amount of extra work- writing letters, compiling various documents, firing off pleading emails into the void. Needless to say, I am good at this sort of palaver, but it’s tiresome. The only bright side is that I have found an ally, a friend of mine who is
also interested in doing this…thing. Together we have vowed to scale the barricades and make it work. Viva Project Possibly Possible!
Even with all this moving on, there is still the occasional sullen backwards stumble. Today, for instance, I spied yet another colleague sporting a modest bump. My eyes bugged out, since I had had a ten minute conversation with her last week and had noticed nothing. She was standing in the corridor talking to someone else, and I actually made a round-about detour so I could get a second covert look- was it really a bump or was she just having a bad posture/wardrobe day? Mmm, definitely looks like a bump.
Cue plunge into sudden, abject depression. With possibly one or two exceptions, every female under 40 working in my immediate vicinity has gotten pregnant at least once or twice in the last couple years. The parade of pregnancy is unceasing. Every time I believe the torment is finally finished, a new one springs out of the woodwork. And every time, I have the same urge to run screaming out of the office, rendered.
Which sometimes makes me think that, all the good plans aside, I may never really shake off this sadness completely. That time will never be a complete healer on this one. With all my best intentions, I still find myself feeling like a freak, the odd one out, the one that is always left behind, the only one who can’t do this. The only one who can’t have this.