General Malaise

It must be the job.

Or something in the water at the job.

But I am kinda cranky.

Being at school is totally stressful, but also entirely wonderful and autonomous and fantastic. After being off work for four months, I am back at the office for a few weeks during winter break. It is annoying. That, in and of itself, should not be worthy of a blog post.

But I am crabby all the time right now. The dogs are driving me to distraction. The husband and kiddo are conspiring to make messes everytime I get things cleaned up. The Dachshund keeps jumping into the dishwasher when I am trying to load it. I feel snappish.

I need some Zen, sitting on top of a lonely peak, by myself time. I can't even be alone at home, since for some reson that labrador retriever has decided I am her servant and I think she has dementia because she asks for food two seconds after she eats. the house is decidedly not quiet with the near constant barking and whining. Grrr. That is me growling.

I wish I could say that there is at least some comic relief here in my being generally annoyed. Maybe I am having perimenopausal hormone imbalances. Fuck it, I don't know. I feel like I want to back a truck up to my house and get rid of a bunch of stuff. Either that or I need a bigger house. There just seems to be no place for all the effluvia. Even my desk is a bloody mess of papers and I would set fire to the whole thing if it weren't for the fact that SOME of those papers require action on my part. Feh.

I need a bulldozer. I'd like to lighten my load for the new year. When I was a youngster, I moved to my first apartment with only what would fit in the bed of a pickup truck. Not anymore. Last time I moved I had 53 boxes just for the kitchen.

I love my stuff and I hate my stuff. I'm drowning in it. I feel like I am complaining about being too rich or too skinny or something. I have no reason to be crabby and every reason to feel blessed. So why do I want to torch it all?

This being forty thing just might be for suckers. Midlife crisis? How cliche.