The one where I air some dirty laundry

Did you ever have one of those days (or weeks, or months even) when you cry at the drop of a hat, for practically no reason at all? I've been having one of those days (weeks, really). I really thought that once the play was over at school and we got Penny (isn't she the cutest?) things would calm down for me. Instead, I feel more irritable than ever.

I'm back to feeling like no one likes me at work, feeling like everyone is talking about me. Feeling like I've done something wrong and I am going to get in trouble. And you know what the worst part is? I absolutely know that it isn't true! I can sit and rationalize that I've done nothing wrong, that its all in my head; and yet I still worry and get all worked up about it. For example, today is our Winter Concert. Long story short, today was the original date, then we had a snow day last week and the instrumental teacher who is only at our school once a week took it upon himself to make a new flier and change the date to tomorrow (Thursday), which is what we would have done in past years. However, Joe Cool instrumental teacher never consulted with the principal about this and therefore the principal was pissed that the date had been changed without his knowledge or consent. Now I emailed the principal the day we were out for snow and said "La la la, this is how we've done it in the past, is that okay, blah blah blah" Did the principal see that email? Of course not. So because Joe Cool instrumental teacher assumed (and we all know what that does) the principal was pissed. No where in there did I do anything wrong, and I know that. But I got all worked up that the principal would think that I had gone behind his back and that I am some good for nothing piece of crap. So I actually went up to the principal and explained this to him; that I would never do something like that without consulting with him, that I was sorry for the confusion, that it was my fault for not putting a snow date on the flier. He just nodded at me and I ended up feeling worse.

My husband loves me very much. I know this. We have a great relationship and hardly ever fight. I know this. He works hard all day and then goes to the gym because it makes him feel good about himself. I know this. And when he gets home from work, he's tired. I know this. But, I'm tired too. I worked all day too. I get home and run around doing errands and make dinner and try to get the puppy to poop outside. This I also know. I know he loves me and I know he appreciates everything that I do, but sometimes I don't *feel* it. Instead I feel worn out, worn down and just plain tired. And then I get cranky, and it gets worse. Maybe he looks at me the wrong way, or says something in a way that triggers something in my head, or maybe he leaves crumbs on the counter (again), or maybe, just maybe, the puppy keeps jumping up on his lap to cuddle with him or snuggles in between his legs in the bed when she was suppose to be *my* lap dog. And I lose it. And I go in the bathroom and I cry. (My eyes are welling up as I reread this, by the way.)

For the last seven years I've been on an anti-depressant call Celexa. How ironic that seven years is how long I've worked here in The Black Hole. Coincidence? I think not. In our feeble attempt to get pregnant, Gordo and I decided that I would slowly come off of the medicine. Its not something I would ever want to be on for the rest of my life anyway and really, what better time than the present. So I slowly weened off. Gordo was never thrilled with my being on it to begin with. Natural remedies, he says. And now here I am, almost two weeks chemical free. And so the other night when I was teary and Gordo couldn't imagine what he could have done wrong, I said, "Don't forget I'm not taking that medicine anymore. There's a good chance I'll be more [and I searched for the right word] irritable and sensitive."

I certainly hope that my body readjusts and figures out that I don't want to be crying all the freakin time. Cause I don't, for the record.