In Which I Complain A Lot
BE FOREWARNED. I am about to complain. I’m going to blather on and you may not like it. I’m going to share with you all sorts of annoying tidbits that would probably be better expressed on Twitter but, let’s be real, you’d rather not receive ten consecutive texts enumerating my current woes.
Still here?
Today was a good day. (Just wait - I’ll start complaining soon.) The kids and I had a very low-intensity day without it being boring, and my hair looked great this morning. I know, right? Everything was going my way.
When I got home from work, I had a long-awaited phone conversation with Vincent, one of my closest friends from Bordeaux. What I’ve been missing most about France is the feel of the language on my tongue. How refreshing to speak French again!
Mama and I walked downtown to browse the racks of Kismet, our favorite Yellow Springs store, and to soak up some afternoon sun.
At that point, my stomach turned over. Just absolutely flopped. Churning and lurching and just generally feeling quite, well, bad. And it still hasn’t stopped, hours later. As a wave of pain washes over me, I have a little hot flash and I feel almost feverish. I’m wearing pajamas (flannel pants, an American Apparel tee, a hoodie, and socks for God’s sake) and lying on the couch surrounded by…
HOMEWORK. I kid you not. I have about a bajillion assignments due before this weekend and all I really want to do is curl myself around a toilet bowl and vomit. Is that really too much to ask?
Let me rephrase that. I would rather be sitting on my bathroom floor throwing up than writing a very interesting research paper on motherhood and the feminist movement. I KNOW. You may have heard me ramble on about this before. You may have seen me get worked up about feminism or children or mothering or some subtopic there within and I am honestly telling you now that I’d rather be puking my guts out.
There. I’m finished. (Plus, I’ve nearly run out of synonyms for vomiting.)
Oh, and did I mention that tonight is trivia at Peach’s? You know, the night I normally go out with friends for a couple of beers to totally suck at knowing obscure things? Yeah.
I would eat chocolate to cheer myself up but it would probably just, well, you know.
