Alternately Titled: On being me when being me isn’t easy.
- The stress of a double-sacrament year—a Confirmation for Joe and a First Communion for Angela. I tell myself that our lives will calm down just as soon as these two receive their sacraments. They’ll have their grace and I’ll have my sanity and we can all return to a more normal existence. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, and my self replies, “Uh huh.”
- The stress of a husband who double-books Confirmation. As in, he signed up to lead a Boy Scout camp-out that weekend because—I totally accept the blame for this one—I did not have the confirmation date on the calendar. “I’ll get him there in time for the ceremony, I promise!” he assured me. “I’ll have him cleaned up! He can take a dry shower!”
- What else? Well, we still have that unemployment stuff going on. Don’t get me wrong—I like seeing my husband’s handsome self more often. It’s being poor that I can do without.
- And then there’s the stress of all this extra weight. I’ll tell you, I am so annoyed at my body right now that it isn’t even funny. I think it likes being overweight! I don’t think it wants to change.
(Except for coffee with cream.)
(And buttered scones.)
- Ants. Forgive me for swearing but I have to. @#!*% ants.