The Way Things Are






Stop. Hold on. Stay in control.
2005-06-02, 2:59 p.m.

Stop. Hold on. Stay in control.

These are lyrics from a Kinks' song. And I have to repeat them to myself pretty often because my mind spins quickly way out in front of me, and before you know it **poof!** anxiety attack.

I know that today's previous post was an abominable display of piss poor attitude and despair.

I am working on it.

I don't hate or even dislike my husband. In fact, I love him, and I even like him most of the time. Building a house has changed our relationship and our marriage, and I'm having a hard time dealing.

I am a petulant, pouty, whiny child.

Thankfully, this husband, unlike the previous one, has not sunk so low as to call me a whiny little bitch. Or a whiny pup, a phrase which still makes my skin crawl, and makes my brow frinkle as I try to process what a whiny pup really is. What is it?

I have jettisoned some weekend plans today. I am not going to the baby shower for my friend's new grandbaby, and I am not going to our receptionist's engagement party. Gifts have been ordered online, apologies have been made and accepted, and I'm off the hook for my Saturday.

What I am doing is going to see my mom tomorrow and walking (God, I hope we're walking - I don't want to jog in Texas afternoon heat) a Relay for Life Survivor's Lap with her. 22 years cancer free - pretty good record. I'll go up and spend the night, and come back Saturday.

I don't have the talent of being able to make anxiety, panic and despair funny and interesting. I need to get my personality back. Baby steps.

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