Sometimes, life is just too hard to  deal with.

I know I’ve been absent — apparently noticeably so — for the past few weeks. After five years of consistent (read: almost daily, if not more) blogging, I hit a rough patch. It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say, (frankly, I’ve ALWAYS got something to spew) I just didn’t WANT to.

My life is very complicated and overwhelming right now. For a person who prides herself on being positive and happy, it’s hard to type out the blatant negativity in my head. Far be it from me to actually analyze another piece of myself (or share it with the world). Afterall, I’m perfect, right? (Sarcasm, people. Embrace it. Love it.)

No one wants to read a whiner, so I’ve refrained. No one wants to read senseless blabber, so I didn’t write. Hell, my internal whining and brooding annoys MYSELF, so I can only imagine how well you all would take it.

However, something happens when you hold it all in. Your brain becomes swollen with the angry, ranty thoughts that fill it, until you can no longer function.

Today, I’ve hit my breaking point.

My life isn’t horrible, and my complaints are minuscule grains of sand in the hourglass of life … but when you have an entire sandbox full of crap, it’s no longer fun or easy to deal with (not to mention smelly and gross).

The economy is shite. Yes, I feel it. EVERY. DAMN. DAY. Bill days give me hives. Budgeting is a necessary yet overwhelming evil we continue to deal with. We save and buy only what’s necessary, but never have anything left over it seems.

We owe taxes this year. First time ever. Not too much, but it’s just another kick in the gut. WTF.

I am consistently working oodles of overtime. When you spend 12-15 hour days on a computer at work, you don’t really want to come home and do anything but stare at walls. Seriously.

Merit raises? What are those? Put simply, the thing we won’t get this year. So much for getting ahead. (Understandable due to the shiteous economy, and I’m truly thankful to have such a good job, but …)

I lost my baby. Despite being generally okay with the situation, it still sucks. Realistically, it was good that it happened when it did (versus down the line a few months), and it would have been more of a struggle than we need right now. I feel like a failure to my husband and family (they’ve never made me feel that way, though — this is just my stupid head talking). I’m in a depression I didn’t think I’d go through, and it SUCKS.

Someone asked me today what I do in my “free” time, and I drew a blank. I used to have so many hobbies, and now I merely exist. Where did my life go?

My wedding day was an explosion of love. Our family and friends gathered to celebrate the love of myself and the man I was destined to love forever. But he would not be the first to hold my heart. That honor belongs to the first love of my life: my daddy.

I remember walking down the aisle with him. As we waited to begin, I was an anxious wreck. My father simply took my hand and I could breathe again. As we walked, I stopped and took a (rather loud) breath. His grip tightened. He knew what was coming, and he knew it was time. As daddy handed me over, he leaned in to husband and said “I trust you.”

Husband takes that seriously, to this day. 

The father/daughter dance was a bittersweet event. To us, it was a small good-bye to the little girl I used to be. “You are a beautiful woman now, but you will always be my little girl.” I drank in his smell — the faintest trace of cologne and cigarettes lingered on his lapel — and I made a memory that will last a lifetime.

#1 “A daughter’s love” by BarelyJen

I have entered this into Cre13′s photo contest about love. Please stop by and check it out (and vote for my entry, of course!).

According to AdAge.com, even popular “music” bands are feeling the wrath of the economy’s downturn.

Interesting read for a Monday, to be sure. What’s next? Gene Simmon asked to retire from KISS?
 

For some reason, I took my bag of Skittles and separated them by color. I haven’t done that since I was a kid (and even then, it was once or twice for school, I think).

What quirks do you have?

Right now, I’m watching “The Office” in “surround” sound. Next on the docket: wii fabulousness.

 

My wedding day was an explosion of love. Our family and friends gathered to celebrate the love of myself and the man I was destined to love forever. But he would not be the first to hold my heart. That honor belongs to the first love of my life: my daddy.

I remember walking down the aisle with him. As we waited to begin, I was an anxious wreck. My father simply took my hand and I could breathe again. As we walked, I stopped and took a (rather loud) breath. His grip tightened. He knew what was coming, and he knew it was time. As daddy handed me over, he leaned in to husband and said “I trust you.”

Husband takes that seriously, to this day. 

The father/daughter dance was a bittersweet event. To us, it was a small good-bye to the little girl I used to be. “You are a beautiful woman now, but you will always be my little girl.” I drank in his smell — the faintest trace of cologne and cigarettes lingered on his lapel — and I made a memory that will last a lifetime.

#1 “A daughter’s love” by BarelyJen

I am entering this into Cre13′s photo contest about love. Please stop by and check it out (and vote for my entry, of course!).

What’s your favorite memory of your parent(s)?

The crook of your chest is where I shall rest.
This is my favorite part.

Your heart guides me along, like a sweet flowing song.
This is my favorite part.

Your arms keep me warm; they save me from harm.
This is my favorite part.

Your fingers caress and prance ‘cross my back when we dance.
This is my favorite part.

Perking up are the ears that hear when I’m near.
This is my favorite part.

The mouth and the lips, with its kisses and quips.
This is my favorite part.

From your top to your toes, I want you to know, you are my favorite part.

I have lived a quiet existence the past few weeks … no phones, no meetings, no chaos. Now that I’m back in the eye of the storm once again, I feel whole. I missed work.

I really think there’s something wrong with me.

Since moving floors three weeks ago, I was finally able to unpack.

It will never look this organized again, I’m betting …

Oh, and that green thing on the table? That’s my lunch!

Looks good, doesn’t it?! Day two of healthy eating, and I’m still going strong. I did find out that soy yogurt tastes like ass, but soy milk is fab.

Husband and I went shopping at Sprout’s Market yesterday … thanks to sales and coupons, we were able to stock up at a really great price. I’ve already made a vegetable soup, fruit salad for the next few days, and a variety of salads for the week. No worries, there’s protein in there, too!

And thanks to his never-ending patience, we went to upgrade his phone (that, and it was just time to!) He is now the proud owner of a BlackJack II by Samsung. It looks nice enough, but it seems confusing as hell. I’ll keep my iPhone, thank  you very much!

“Wonder what this button does?!”

Definitely not impressed.

What kind of cell phone do you have?

I’m watching the “17 Kids and Counting” wedding special on TLC … Josh Duggar proposed to his girlfriend, but they emphatically stress they’re saving their first kiss for the wedding day. According to his parents, it will help them “avoid some of the missteps we’ve experienced.” (Among other reasons, such as mutual respect, self-control and religious beliefs)

I can appreciate the sentiment behind saving your first kiss for your wedding day, but I can’t imagine husband and my relationship growing into what it is now without that initial level of intimacy.

Alex and I were made fun of because we waited two weeks into our relationship before we smooched away … (We were able to exercise self-control in other areas, though.)

But, when that day of nothingness turns into two weeks, you tend to rethink your thoughts.

Each time I got out of bed was a treat for me. I’d walk to the kitchen and feel free for a moment. I was allowed to leave the house only twice, and both times I’d wish we’d full-throttle the gas to somewhere — anywhere! — that would be a change of scenery.

Today, oh glorious day, I’m able to walk away from my nest. Bed rest as I knew it is over.

To my bed, I make this promise:

• No longer will I sit on you in stretches longer than 12 hours 
• I promise to not eat each meal I consume on you
• If I do eat a meal, I will clean up any cracker crumbs that may have fallen your way
• I will make you up to look pretty more often. A pretty bed is a happy bed.  

My next step out the door: work on Monday. Wish me luck!