Life Handed Me Lemons

Some days I feel like the only reason I went to college was to get a degree to hang over the kitchen sink and stare at while I do dishes. Some days I want to scream at the top of my lungs and cry all day. Some days I just want to run out the door and never come back. Some days I just want to dig a hole in the ground, crawl in it, and die. Some days I want to pack up my shit and take a plane somewhere very, very, very far. Some days I think I’m going mad… others I think I already am. Then, on Sundays, I'm expected to give thanks for this life?

I am completely numb from the many nights without sleep, my hands feel like sandpaper, I haven’t seen the inside of a gym in many months, I don’t remember what my hair looks like when it’s clean, my clothes don't fit, and -when I look in the mirror- I don’t recognize the person staring back at me or the body where she resides. Most days I don’t even have the time to enjoy the simpler things in life like eating, reading a good magazine while at the crapper, or even getting dressed. Worst of all, I don't remember the person I was and I certainly cannot believe that I let her go when I was so proud and in love with who she was and who she had become.

I miss my life…the REAL life, the one I signed up for and left behind... I miss it terribly! If I had just one wish it would be to go back in time and make better life choices. I wouldn’t have gotten married the first time around, because I knew for a fact that we were going to end up divorced even before I married the asshole. I wouldn’t have returned from Rome. I have taken more time to get married the second time around, and I -most definitely- wouldn’t be spending long ass days knee deep in shitty diapers, running after a 1-year-old while breast-feeding a newborn, replying to emails from my ‘chicken little’ clients, doing laundry, doing dishes, vaccuuming, making beds, cleaning after my husband, and everything else my *dearest* Ares thinks a magic troll comes to do every day while he’s out playing techie with clients and I sit at home with my thumb up my ass. I cannot believe he had the cojones two days ago to tell me that I "don't know how to manage time effectively". I wanted to kick his ass... hell, two days later, I still do... for real... with closed fists and all. For the very first time ever, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

So, how the fuck did I end up living this life? Did I really make these choices? When? More importantly, why? I have a fucking degree which took me 7 years and about 70k to complete!!! I had a thriving career, a house, time to spend doing all the things that made me happy... I had a life!! Where the hell did it all go? Why am I stuck in this fucking nightmare day in and day out? Funny, I think at one point in my life- for like a megasecond- I actually wanted this kind of home-living... I must have been fucking delirious, on Vicodin, or drunk off my ass. The grass isn't alwys greener on the other side... in my case, the grass is shit brown!

It’s official… I absofuckinglutely…HATE MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!