I've started this blog post at least half-a-dozen times in the last few minutes. My current location has me feeling like one cranky bitch. I'm cold. Cabin crazy. House bound. Hungry. Bored. Light deprived. Lonely. Usually, I hit this point around February. Discontent arrived early this year.
Where am I? I live in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota.
My family and I have lived here 10 years now. We've given this place and these people a decade of our lives. We're still treated like outsiders by the natives. We've lost more friends than we've made. Sometimes I felt like we did everything short of standing on our heads and shooting fireworks out of our asses to please people. Minnesota is not famous, but infamous for its fabled "Minnesota Nice". A phrase that to those in the know generally translates to "passive aggressive". We've made no more than a handful of friends, most from outside of the Twin Cities area; many however, are no more than acquaintances. I even have relatives here. Relatives that I've seen a sum total of 8 times... at least half of those were just because my mother was visiting me.
My husband spent 4 months in school in Florida this past year. In that time he made many friends... more than we had in 10 years here. Friends that he's still in contact with nearly every day. People we know here we sometimes don't hear from for weeks at a time, and usually only if we initiate it. During the 4 months that I was here alone as a temporary single parent? I heard from local people less than a dozen times.
At least folks from the Twin Cities match their climate.
Several months out of the year we spend fighting the artic weather. Believe it or not, I was born and raised in an even harsher climate, North Dakota, but I've had it. I've come to dread doing the basic necessities of life, because it involves going outside. The climate is physically and mentally draining. I've spent 40 years fighting the cold: brutal temperatures, dangerous driving conditions, wear and tear on vehicles and homes, depression from light deprivation, having entirely separate winter wardrobes, cramming all outside activities into a few good months... the list goes on and on.
This past Christmas, our "celebration" meant that out of 36 hours, 10 hours were spent in said dangerous, white-knuckled driving conditions due to winter weather. Here, that can hit anytime between November and April. While people in other parts of the country are walking around in their shirt sleeves enjoying the sun on their face, we're wrapping up in double layers of clothing until only the whites of our eyes show for fear of frostbite. Even in the house or at work, I'm cold all the time. Being cold leads to a ravenous appetite. Of course, the human body, when faced with cold tries to shore up its reserves and store fat. The result? Constantly denying my hunger just to button my pants.
Lonely. Cold. Hungry. Depressed. I'm done. I can't live like this any more.
We really wanted to leave years ago, but we have two kids. Two kids who had been moved around a lot when they were younger. We were determined to stay in one place until our eldest graduated high school. We have a year and a half to go. One more winter to endure.
Showing posts with label Frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frustration. Show all posts
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Always Look on the Bright Side of Death (Warmed Over)
WARNING: Long pissing, moaning, and whining post ahead... with a happy ending.
It's a phrase my family used to use if someone looked very tired or sick, "Oofta! You look like death warmed over!" Its usage was so common, that I never really considered how horribly dark that statement was until I was much older.
Today, along with the rest of the NerdPod, I feel like death warmed over.
Why?
1. Tomorrow begins our last run of Sound of Music. Six performances in a row. Last week it was five followed by two days off. Great people. Lots of fun. But after several months of rehearsals and almost 20 performances spanning five months, I'm running out of steam.
2. Big projects at work sucking up all available brain power. By the time I finish up an hour of commute and 8 hours of work each day, I'm absolutely mentally drained.
3. Monkey Dude's rehearsals for his play keep us hopping in the short period between leaving work and getting to the theater for our own show AND on the days we don't have a performance. Last night's dress rehearsal went past 1130pm.
4. Adventure Girl has a life, too. We've had to juggle her school commitments, as well as plan a social calendar for her when Monkey Dude isn't available. We owe Adventure Girl's friend's parents for all the sleepover invites that have accomodated our hectic schedule.
5. Round and round it goes sickness. We've hardly gone a week in the past two months without someone in the family having some version of flu, cold, or just plain exhaustion-induced ickiness.
6. Health issues of close and distant family has had me worried. It wears on the psyche.
7. Avindair's work has been a constant source of irritation, like a rabid weasel in one's underwear.
7. All work and no play has made Jill a grumpy bitch goddess. Each day, for months, has been jam-packed with have-to's from before sun up to after sun down. My juggling act is suffering as all but the most important red, bouncy balls get dropped.
There is some good, though. To drop a cliche, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. A few of them, in fact.
1. By this time next week, there are no commitments on our calendar for the next few months.
2. A hectic day will mean going to work and running a few errands on the way home.
3. We're both taking some time off over Spring Break when the kids are out of school. We are not going away. We are not going on a vacation. We're staying home. Get up when we feel like it. Do some projects around the house that have been nagging at us. Getting things accomplished for US, not for someone else.
4. We'll have time to be social again. Invite friends over to watch a movie or play games.
5. We'll be able to eat dinner as a family and spend time together again.
6. It's Spring! The weather is warming up. Now we can take walks by the lake after work and maybe the trails at Elm Creek on weekends. I had my first walk-around-the-building at work today after months!
7. I'll have the energy to exercise in the morning, like I've been wanting to.
8. We've made some new friends with Sound of Music and hope to nurture some of those friendships past the final curtain.
9. We got our foot in the door at a remarkable community theater. It's great to be back on stage, and once we've rested up, we'll be auditioning again... later. *grin*
10. St Patrick's Day the whole family gets to see Gaelic Storm!
I know it's another cliche, but it fits. Sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees. I'm weary beyond belief today and don't quite know how we're going to make it through the week. I had to scramble up a veritable old oak and get some perspective before I lost all hope.
It didn't give me the rest of a full night's sleep, but it did help quell some of the frustration. I'll just play the last scene of Monty Python's The Life of Brian in my head and remember these important words:
Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad,
Other things just make you swear and curse,
When you're chewing life's gristle,
Don't grumble,
Give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best.
And...
Always look on the bright side of life.
[whistle]
Always look on the light side of life.
[whistle]
If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten,
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps.
Just purse your lips and whistle.
That's the thing.
And...
Always look on the bright side of life.
[whistle]
Always look on the right side of life,
[whistle]
For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin.
Give the audience a grin.
Enjoy it. It's your last chance, anyhow.
So,...
Always look on the bright side of death,
[whistle]
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
[whistle]
Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it.
Life's a laugh and death's a joke it's true.
You'll see it's all a show.
Keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.
And...
Always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the right side of life.
[whistle]
[repeat and fade out]
It's a phrase my family used to use if someone looked very tired or sick, "Oofta! You look like death warmed over!" Its usage was so common, that I never really considered how horribly dark that statement was until I was much older.
Today, along with the rest of the NerdPod, I feel like death warmed over.
Why?
1. Tomorrow begins our last run of Sound of Music. Six performances in a row. Last week it was five followed by two days off. Great people. Lots of fun. But after several months of rehearsals and almost 20 performances spanning five months, I'm running out of steam.
2. Big projects at work sucking up all available brain power. By the time I finish up an hour of commute and 8 hours of work each day, I'm absolutely mentally drained.
3. Monkey Dude's rehearsals for his play keep us hopping in the short period between leaving work and getting to the theater for our own show AND on the days we don't have a performance. Last night's dress rehearsal went past 1130pm.
4. Adventure Girl has a life, too. We've had to juggle her school commitments, as well as plan a social calendar for her when Monkey Dude isn't available. We owe Adventure Girl's friend's parents for all the sleepover invites that have accomodated our hectic schedule.
5. Round and round it goes sickness. We've hardly gone a week in the past two months without someone in the family having some version of flu, cold, or just plain exhaustion-induced ickiness.
6. Health issues of close and distant family has had me worried. It wears on the psyche.
7. Avindair's work has been a constant source of irritation, like a rabid weasel in one's underwear.
7. All work and no play has made Jill a grumpy bitch goddess. Each day, for months, has been jam-packed with have-to's from before sun up to after sun down. My juggling act is suffering as all but the most important red, bouncy balls get dropped.
There is some good, though. To drop a cliche, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. A few of them, in fact.
1. By this time next week, there are no commitments on our calendar for the next few months.
2. A hectic day will mean going to work and running a few errands on the way home.
3. We're both taking some time off over Spring Break when the kids are out of school. We are not going away. We are not going on a vacation. We're staying home. Get up when we feel like it. Do some projects around the house that have been nagging at us. Getting things accomplished for US, not for someone else.
4. We'll have time to be social again. Invite friends over to watch a movie or play games.
5. We'll be able to eat dinner as a family and spend time together again.
6. It's Spring! The weather is warming up. Now we can take walks by the lake after work and maybe the trails at Elm Creek on weekends. I had my first walk-around-the-building at work today after months!
7. I'll have the energy to exercise in the morning, like I've been wanting to.
8. We've made some new friends with Sound of Music and hope to nurture some of those friendships past the final curtain.
9. We got our foot in the door at a remarkable community theater. It's great to be back on stage, and once we've rested up, we'll be auditioning again... later. *grin*
10. St Patrick's Day the whole family gets to see Gaelic Storm!
I know it's another cliche, but it fits. Sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees. I'm weary beyond belief today and don't quite know how we're going to make it through the week. I had to scramble up a veritable old oak and get some perspective before I lost all hope.
It didn't give me the rest of a full night's sleep, but it did help quell some of the frustration. I'll just play the last scene of Monty Python's The Life of Brian in my head and remember these important words:
Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad,
Other things just make you swear and curse,
When you're chewing life's gristle,
Don't grumble,
Give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best.
And...
Always look on the bright side of life.
[whistle]
Always look on the light side of life.
[whistle]
If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten,
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps.
Just purse your lips and whistle.
That's the thing.
And...
Always look on the bright side of life.
[whistle]
Always look on the right side of life,
[whistle]
For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin.
Give the audience a grin.
Enjoy it. It's your last chance, anyhow.
So,...
Always look on the bright side of death,
[whistle]
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
[whistle]
Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it.
Life's a laugh and death's a joke it's true.
You'll see it's all a show.
Keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.
And...
Always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the right side of life.
[whistle]
[repeat and fade out]
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Public Service
I'm officially sick and tired of being sick and tired. To help myself and readers of this blog, I'm presenting this handy-dandy frustration relief kit. It's not illegal, won't rot your liver, and if you do it right, will result in a temporary, but blissful lack of consciousness.
Thanks to The Crazy Website.
Thanks to The Crazy Website.
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