The Cockroach Visitor to my Brain

You're welcome for that visual.

I have been impossibly grumpy all day. 

Enough grumpy that I furrowed my brow every so often and growled to myself, “What am I going to write about for the newsletter today?” Surprisingly enough, no voice spoke up to answer my question. But, I told myself I couldn’t have any pie until I got a few words down for the week so here we are. For better (for me) or worse (probably for you). 

Of course, the question in this situation would be, “Why are you so grumpy?” My answer to that is, “I haven’t any bloody clue.” Sure, it’s hot. And sure, I had kind of a weird weekend which included a burn on the back of my hand, blisters on a couple of my fingers, and a key I accidentally broke in the lock of an apartment that is not my own. But, honestly, I think I’m just the general grumpy. (Not the dwarf.)

To me, this particularly kind of grumpiness resembles living in a New York apartment. Or any big city apartment really. It’s like, you know there are holes behind the sink or cracks in the walls or rips in the window screen. This knowledge sits in the back of your head; you know you’re always only a few minutes away from a visitor. Or, you have a buddy in your house already. It’s some sort of cockroach or centipede or some other thing. (I won’t give more than two examples because…ew.) That thing is on the periphery but you never quite catch a glimpse of it. It’s a feeling that won’t leave you. You might forget for a minute. But then the thought flashes across your brain because, actually, it was there the whole time.

Today has felt a bit like that. 

Truly, it would have been just as well not to send a newsletter today. But there is something a bit interesting about grumpiness. It’s one of those feelings that seems sort of invalid because it’s one of those feelings that, even if you’re aware of what’s making you grumpy, there’s something untouchable about it. I’ve got tools to deal with depression and anxiety. I know when to pull out the journal to dissect the highs and the lows. I’ve got all sorts of tricks to try and beat insomnia. For grumpiness, I just mostly have this face:

It’s annoying really. To be so grumpy. Yet, I am so grumpy. Which does not make nearly as fun a song as being so vain.

At some point, I think all of us annoy ourselves. I certainly hit moments where I’m tired of whatever I’m doing. Not what I have to do in the world but tired of what I am in the world. Like the “oh, you’re doing that again?? Good job.” sort of tired. The sort of tired where you roll your eyes at yourself before you’ve even said anything out loud. The sort of tired where in your brain you’re in the bathroom with your middle school bully and there are no doors or windows for you to leave through. So, you just have to be there until an exit makes itself clear.

This too shall pass. But until then, there’s sticking to a writing schedule which is both better (for consistency for me) and worse (for cringe for future me re-reading this). Oh, and pie.  

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…is this about me?

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