I blabbed on facebook over the weekend that I am so overly emotional right now, it feels like my eyeballs and soul are a stream of sorrow and flooding rivers. I have been very fortunate over the years to not have a huge problem with the “depressive” part of manic depression and I don’t even know if I really am depressed as much as I am just emotional. For example, the Derek Jeter commercial for Gatorade or whatever when he decided to walk to the ball park and runs into fans and whatever…. I bawled. Not just once either. Every time I see it I bawl. Cry like a baby because I am just so overwhelmed with pride and happiness for this guy and his baseball career, OF WHICH I never followed and couldn’t possibly care less about. Seeing his parents beam with pride at their son tears at my heart strings so hard that I just cant help but cry.
That’s just one example of how emo I have been over little things. Yesterday, my grandmother who is super hypo manic right now, decided to give me a jingle at the office to tell me that she had purchased new carpeting for her mobile home and in her fit of excitement about it, she wanted to know if I would be interested in having her old carpet and padding. It was at that moment I had wished if for a one time experience, I could reach through the phone and punch her in the throat and then hang up before she realized what had hit her.
no GRAMMY.. No I do not want your disgusting carpet from your mobile home.. please tell me why I would? I didnt want my mothers nasty ass carpet when they pulled it out of her house and installed their new fancy beautiful carpet, PLEASE tell me why you would think I would in turn, decide to take yours off your hands… go ahead. i’ll wait
Yesterday I mentioned wondering “how much more” of the nonsense of life I would have to endure before the big lesson was learned. And then that happened and again, I went into a fit of hysterics and almost cried myself to sleep because my feelings, which are over abundantly sensitive right now, were so hurt it was all I could do but cry and not punch someone. I really took offense to the offer, I know that my family thinks I live in less than mediocre conditions as far as they are concerned and if I had the option to not have a job outside the house and be able to be home and be a housewife like they are, I bet my bottom dollar (whatever that even means) that my house, which by the way, has THREE other male beings living in it, might be a little closer to their standard of clean. But I don’t. And I’m not. So it isn’t. But that does NOT mean I would be happy to unload your toe jammed shit stained carpet that isn’t good enough for YOU to keep, into my home that you feel is “worthy” of your carpeting either, but thanks for the offer.
I wish you could see the face I made when I wrote all of that, it goes hand in hand so perfectly.
Old carpeting isnt something you offer to your oldest daughter just because she decided to tear out the 30 year old carpet that was in the house she bought from you and decided to paint and seal the floor instead. Do you know how much dirt, SAND, literally, desert sand, we swept up after removing the 30 year old carpet(that my mother swore to the day we ripped it out was STILL in good shape and just needed to be cleaned)? Probably enough to fill a childs sandbox twice. It was the single most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my entire life, and to think that somehow the idea that having CARPETING lining the floors of your home is more sanitary and clean than having a concrete floor, let alone, OLD CARPETING that someone else has walked on and drug in dirt, sand, ebola and god knows what off the ground… I will NEVER put carpeting in my home ever again and more importantly, carpeting that someone who says they love me, has decided isnt good enough for their bare feet but good enough for ours. BOOOOO
I am just rambling and pissed off. I dont understand people sometimes. Perhaps all too often. It’s the craziest thing, ever since I stopped smoking pot a couple years ago and stopped self medicating, the clarity of life the way I see it in complete sobriety, it’s a miracle I don’t get all cheech and chong on life again. I find more reason to float through my life numb to the nonsense than I’d like to admit. And even though I choose to not live that way anymore and instead like the good christian chiche goes, “let God get me through”, I can honestly see why other people would rather be high than deal with their families shit.
And that’s all I have to say about that