Friday the Foe

Warning (as always): Language

Obviously, as you may be able to tell from the title, yesterday sucked the big one. Although the last couple weeks haven’t exactly been the greatest, yesterday I wanted to just climb to the top of the world and scream a big F**K YOU to anything and everything….of course that was only when I wasn’t hibernating in my room for the 23 hours I was home. Considering I’m afraid of heights (and cluuuuumsy) we may have had an even bigger issue on our hands if I had attempted that.

What was I doing the other one hour that I wasn’t home yesterday you may ask? I was at my therapy appointment. That helped, right? Wrong! Although I love my therapist and am so lucky to have found her, I just wasn’t in the mood to be there or talk…especially if it meant rehashing the events…and lack there of…of the last month or so. (yea, I had put it off a bit after the move back home…oops) AND did anyone catch what was just in that last sentence….”I JUST WASN’T IN THE MOOD TO…TALK.” When in my entire life has that EVER been a problem?!?! I could probably stop right here and you would get the sense of blahness I was feeling yesterday just from that point alone. But I’m not, because I’m a rebel or just stubborn or just because I don’t have to…we will truly never know. I can find something to talk about at any given moment even if it has no substance whatsoever. (I think we have pretty much established that so if you weren’t sure yet then you should likely just give up and stop reading) Case and point, yesterday I did bring up that their carpet and my shoes both needed cleaning.

Ok, back to therapy and all that jazz. I literally walked in dramatically with a big loud huff, slung my purse in the other chair, and laid across the couch with my hand draped over my forehead (the epitome of any movie you have ever seen when someone goes to therapy) and proudly and very loudly proclaimed that I was glad to see her but had no desire to be there or to talk at all…and also that I was still in my jammies. Hey, they were sweats so really it is socially acceptable, like yoga gear. So what did I do, I talked the entire hour. I’m just going to go ahead and say about 40% of what I needed and probably should have been talking about and 60% random shit that sometimes, in my defense, did correlate to the “need to talk about topic.” Were you talked about? Maybe…

So enough with that boring stuff…here’s more. I got home and my whole body was hurting like a mother f****r. I HATE MEDICINE….. likely because I have to take 7348374564564389.4 pills and such on a regular basis…but I gave in. I laid down for “just a little bit” and my nap become night night time, essentially. 2pm-9:15pm. I am a MASTER napper and nobody can tell me any different. On a serious note though, a lot of my naps are a way to escape. (when they aren’t from being run down from the meds as I mentioned above.) Yes, I dream. A LOT. Sometimes they are fabulous and take me to another world where it’s all rainbows with pink glitter and unicorns and sunflowers made out of chocolate and Oreos as far as the eye can see. But sometimes they are just as frustrating as they would be if I were awake and living them out. Naps are no different than sleep at night as I can easily wake up violently, without reason, and be having a panic attack.

My arch nemesis: panic attacks! But that’s a topic for another day as I believe I have easily turned my short, sweet, and boring blog post into a long, crazy, and boring blog post….therapy and napping. I have inadvertently and successfully proved my point of talking…writing??…too much.

Love, hugs, kisses, and bright pink glitter for now,

Kimmy G šŸ™‚

P.S. I refuse to re-read this so it comes with a guarantee of grammer and spelling mistakes. You’re welcome.


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