Gabby (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladyoflorien) wrote2003-08-30 07:55 pm
ladyoflorien) wrote2003-08-30 07:55 pm
Oooh I hate meeee...
Guh. I'm sick I'm so freaking aggravated. Just GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! My life sucks, I hate it, I hate me, I hate everything. I'm so tired. I want to go to sleep. And I want to be able to just sit around and goof off and write and do my thing. I don't want to be so damned busy all the frelling time. Everything is just spinning round and round in this whirlwind and it's making me dizzy and confused and exhausted and strained physically and mentally and spiritually. And I don't think I can take much more of it, honestly.
Monday morning I'm going to Canada for a week. A week in Canada. Ooooo fun, right? Hardly. I've been dreading this "vacation" ever since it was mentioned to me. I haven't wanted to go from the get go, but I've been subtly "forced" into going by those "I'll be soooo disappointed in you if you stay home" looks. It was cool when I thought we'd be going to the Canadian Bethel, but we're not even doing that. We don't know what the hell we're doing. We're just... going, for the hell of being there. WTF?? I, as most of you know, have had the most stressful two weeks of my life just recently, and now I'm packing it off to Canada with a van-ful of relatives for a week and the DAY we get back home I'm supposed to be in Boston for my Dave Matthews Concert.
Can we say: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSEPTUY$_@!#%(@#$%@$)&%!_(&4!PIHRFNSLKDTHY@(#)%R*TG)W$Y%WKRHGWP($&%!!!!!!!!"?
This equates to me being trapped in a car all day for a week with four senior citizens and possibly the most peppy, perky 30-year-old on the planet. Two of these people are deaf. Another is annoying beyond my ability to properly emphasize. And I just did the math and guess what? I'm going to be on my P-E-R-I-O-D for the duration of this trip. That's right, trapped in a car for at least 8 hours a day with lord knows what symptoms. And, best of all, we're not visiting friends or relatives or anyone remotely interesting, so basically my only company will be two cranky Italians, two oblivious and hard-of-hearing older adults, and the aforementioned pep-squad reject and instant headache maker. I am not going to survive that car.
On top of that I totally wrecked my back so sitting or standing still for any extended period of time equals excruciating pain, and I have to wait three weeks before my next chiropractic appointment. Oh yeah, and I'm dieting because I'm a big fat cow, so I can't even eat what's supposedly really awesome french food on this vacation because it'll blow everything. Yeah, wanna know what I had for dinner tonight? Meat. And lettuce. While I listened to my mother go on and on and ON about how wonderful the gourmet bread she bought in Boston is and how sweet and crisp the corn was and blah blah blah. So, I wonder, why am I even going to Canada? There's no one to visit/meet. I can't eat the food. We have no plans. Basically I'm going to be in a car all day for the next 7/8 days. We're supposed to be perusing some "wonderful architecture" etc, which is all fine and good, but that's not going to sustain me with the aforementioned company.
So basically Monday morning I get to embark on my very first excursion to hell. I'm going to bring pain killers and my entire CD collection and as many books as I can get my hands on and maybe I'll get through it if I don't starve to death first. It's been miserable, absolutely miserable, and the only plus side to being cut-off from all my "friends" for a week is I wont have to hear one particular person complain about everything and her intense heartache. I feel sorry for her, I do, but my god. At least I limit my rantings to once every few weeks/months. Every day, (at LEAST) twice a day, is killing me.
Ugh. I have a headache. I think I'm malnourished. And I'm DEFINITELY cranky, most likely from the afore mentioned monthly visitor. I don't know what I'm going to do alone for a week in a different country.
I want to cry so bad, but I'm too damned tired to do anything at the moment other than just breathe.
*INHALE* Don't bother with posting comments, they usually make me feel worse when I'm in a mood like this. I mostly just wrote this for me.
Monday morning I'm going to Canada for a week. A week in Canada. Ooooo fun, right? Hardly. I've been dreading this "vacation" ever since it was mentioned to me. I haven't wanted to go from the get go, but I've been subtly "forced" into going by those "I'll be soooo disappointed in you if you stay home" looks. It was cool when I thought we'd be going to the Canadian Bethel, but we're not even doing that. We don't know what the hell we're doing. We're just... going, for the hell of being there. WTF?? I, as most of you know, have had the most stressful two weeks of my life just recently, and now I'm packing it off to Canada with a van-ful of relatives for a week and the DAY we get back home I'm supposed to be in Boston for my Dave Matthews Concert.
Can we say: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSEPTUY$_@!#%(@#$%@$)&%!_(&4!PIHRFNSLKDTHY@(#)%R*TG)W$Y%WKRHGWP($&%!!!!!!!!"?
This equates to me being trapped in a car all day for a week with four senior citizens and possibly the most peppy, perky 30-year-old on the planet. Two of these people are deaf. Another is annoying beyond my ability to properly emphasize. And I just did the math and guess what? I'm going to be on my P-E-R-I-O-D for the duration of this trip. That's right, trapped in a car for at least 8 hours a day with lord knows what symptoms. And, best of all, we're not visiting friends or relatives or anyone remotely interesting, so basically my only company will be two cranky Italians, two oblivious and hard-of-hearing older adults, and the aforementioned pep-squad reject and instant headache maker. I am not going to survive that car.
On top of that I totally wrecked my back so sitting or standing still for any extended period of time equals excruciating pain, and I have to wait three weeks before my next chiropractic appointment. Oh yeah, and I'm dieting because I'm a big fat cow, so I can't even eat what's supposedly really awesome french food on this vacation because it'll blow everything. Yeah, wanna know what I had for dinner tonight? Meat. And lettuce. While I listened to my mother go on and on and ON about how wonderful the gourmet bread she bought in Boston is and how sweet and crisp the corn was and blah blah blah. So, I wonder, why am I even going to Canada? There's no one to visit/meet. I can't eat the food. We have no plans. Basically I'm going to be in a car all day for the next 7/8 days. We're supposed to be perusing some "wonderful architecture" etc, which is all fine and good, but that's not going to sustain me with the aforementioned company.
So basically Monday morning I get to embark on my very first excursion to hell. I'm going to bring pain killers and my entire CD collection and as many books as I can get my hands on and maybe I'll get through it if I don't starve to death first. It's been miserable, absolutely miserable, and the only plus side to being cut-off from all my "friends" for a week is I wont have to hear one particular person complain about everything and her intense heartache. I feel sorry for her, I do, but my god. At least I limit my rantings to once every few weeks/months. Every day, (at LEAST) twice a day, is killing me.
Ugh. I have a headache. I think I'm malnourished. And I'm DEFINITELY cranky, most likely from the afore mentioned monthly visitor. I don't know what I'm going to do alone for a week in a different country.
I want to cry so bad, but I'm too damned tired to do anything at the moment other than just breathe.
*INHALE* Don't bother with posting comments, they usually make me feel worse when I'm in a mood like this. I mostly just wrote this for me.
no subject
And I know all this seems obvious and you might be saying "Duh, like I haven't already thought about it or tried?" but I have to take the chance. Heh. I know my mother wouldn't take me on a trip that I would hate so much if she knew how much I was bothered by it. So tell her you won't go. It can't make things any worse than actually going would be.
*hugs* and much love. Sorry to have invaded right now when I know you didn't want to hear from anyone, but .. yeah.
no subject