let's get my rage on.
i hate boys. i am twenty-two and i am going around whining like i am fifteen. pretty soon i will be thirty and i doubt things will change. i will still be saying "i hate boys." maybe, it's me. it's probably me. consider: last week, i vowed to not get mad. to not allow boyfriend to irk me, and here i am irked. by boyfriend. because... okay. so, i spent the weekend working. and by working, i mean, friday 3-11, saturday, 9-5, then i went to take one of my kids to a sleep clinic and i bunked with him from saturday night, spent the day with him because apparently children take THREE naps in the first nine hours of their day (my kid did not and i just spent a lot of time explaining the loss of privileges with continued monkeying around) and then i bunked with my kid again on sunday night. sunday evening, i go for a coffee break and phone boyfriend who i have not spoken to all week and boyfriend tells me he is busy watching a movie. and i roll my eyes, because i will not get irked, i told myself, and then boyfriend calls me at midnight while i am in the room with my seven-year old ward at the sleep clinic, and he says something along the lines of "you really can't talk?" and again, i roll my eyes, unirked, of course and say goodnight. soon it is monday, and i spend the day off cleaning etc etc. and i phone boyfriend at 7:00pm. and he curtly says to me that he is busy. he's at the grocery store, shouldn't i know by now that he is busy on mondays till at least 9:00pm? by this time..... i am irked. i am irked. i am Irked. a phone call later on entails me being irked. and him being irked because some thing is wrong with me as i should not be irked. "we don't talk for three days and you have a day off and you find something to be mad about and you're mad at me. some thing's wrong with you." i get even MORE irked when he proceeds to tell me his plans for halloween. PUKE. puke. anyway. the point of this all, is i am now two days worth of irked. i awoke this morning with a migraine so bad i wanted to die, but instead i cried, and now that the migraine is gone, i have replaced the grief it caused with the grief that irked me yesterday. i.e. telling myself that maybe, it is me. some thing IS wrong with me. and i really don't know what is wrong with me. except maybe, JUST maybe, boyfriend is what's wrong with me. or maybe, i really am, that needy.
*breathe breathe breathe breathe*