I'm finding myself sinking deeper into an unjustified self-pity, and I really need to slap myself out of it. No one likes a whiner. Most of the things that are going wrong around me are incredibly trivial, and I offend myself for letting them get to me. For example, I stopped at the beauty supply store on the way home, to pick up the chemicals to lighten my hair, and I grabbed some clearance nail polish as impulse items. The nail polish I tried is apparently chemically breaking down, and no amount of top coats I put on top of it can save the lumpy pockmarked appearance. Every time I catch myself obsessing about it, I can't believe how small I'm being. I'm even cranky over the test strip I did on my hair with the color lifter, because it's as blonde as it can be at the roots, but the previously dyed length is staying stubbornly brown. What is wrong with me that I'm letting this bother me? I need an attitude adjustment. I don't have any right to be disappointed with junk like this.
It's possible that I'm less resilient because some of the news today was a bit more monumental, and little of it was any good. This weekend marks the one year anniversary of my husband leaving for his adventure, and when it started, I honestly believed that by now I would be starting to plan for his return. I expected to be panic cleaning the house, making reservations for things to do with his earned vacation, and generally nesting in anticipation. I knew already there was going to be some delay. But now even the known delay was too optimistic. It sounds like there may now be weeks tacked on to the end of the months that were added earlier this year. This isn't any fun anymore. And to be honest, that's almost exactly what he keeps saying, when we think long-term. Terrifying changes could be on the horizon, terrifying because I don't handle uncertainty well. I'm going to be a mess until it's all sorted out, and implemented.
Years and years ago, we used to go camping with large groups of our friends. We had an old trailer that I think we inherited from my grandfather, and we used it to haul things like fire barrels and ice chests that held enough food for dozens of people. One year, we were packing up to leave, after a long weekend of drunken revelry with the gang, and something went wrong with the trailer. I think it was a broken axle or something, probably more serious than a simple flat tire. While I was stumped, wondering what the hell we were going to do, the man just emptied the camping equipment, dividing it between all our friends who had a few inches of car space to spare, and then he enlisted help in flipping the trailer upside down and lashing it to the roof of our full-size van. Our old college roommate couldn't believe how the man just rolled with the punches, quickly finding a work-around for something that would have broken most people (me included), and he didn't even look flustered. I need his calming influence again. Can't he just come home already?
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