A Sharp Edge

I broke apart yesterday and cut the people I love with the sharp edge of my words and attitude. No halo floating over my head. I knew things were heading for a rough day and my dear husband bounced out of bed and started listing all the things he wanted to tackle. Things we needed to take care of together.

It is not like I can expect him to have a PhD in psychology. How would he know that he was throwing me over the edge if I didn't even know?
Yesterday was the beginning of the month, and the end of my vignette (name for rented booth space) at the little antique store off our downtown square. Another failed adventure. Something I felt God wanted Me to do for I some holy reason that I never quite figured out.

My husband thinks it was all a plot to become a hoarder and spend money on crap I didn't. need and nobody else wanted or needed. When I get an idea in my head, I think about all the creative things I could do. I had some really great ideas...the only problem is it is a BIG step from concept or picture in a magazine to finished product and reality in life.

So my garage is filled with about a dozen quarter finished or never started projects all intended to make their way to the market of my little vintage/antique booth. I pulled over 100 tacks out of the old leather office chair and bought two books on upholstery, even order new material and purchased a heavy duty stapler. The chair is still naked furniture...just a frame and a bunch of cotton padding and a bottom that sags because I pulled the spring support out.



I needed to go pick up all the junk I had at the booth, and bring it home - the only problem is - I already stuffed my garage full....well, it wasn't all me...we did unload the homeschool room into the garage because I never seemed to be able to get 'go through the homeschool room crap' to the top of my non-existent to-do-list. (That statement along should qualify me to work the office job I applied for on Friday! Just one of those things that popped into my head to do when I say those empty employee applications computers just sitting their looking for people to play on its keys.)

Did I mention I get distracted on off course?

Avoidance...delay...."let me take a bath". You know the kind....it starts with real hot water and a stack of books and ends because it starts to get uncomfortable being in cold water when I haven't even remembered to pick up a wash rag....but I did read a few chapters of the book I got at the Goodwill Thursday night...that is another episode where I needed a few hours to settle down so I sat on the floor of the Goodwill mining the gems of old books.

AT least I wasn't buying old harvest gold 70's choppers or one more glass vase that just might be a collector's item.

So, back to yesterday, my husband says something about we need to go through all the piles of clothes all over the house. Yes, pile I shoved into the closet last Tuesday to make my room look more picked up was still on the floor and all the clothes he had washed and folded was laying on the rocking chair and sofa. What is it about learning after 25 years that I don't fold my shirts? I put them on hangers so they don't get all wrinkled and I can wear them without ironing....which comes in especially handy since I haven't owned an ironing board for 2 years.

I never did get my children to learn how to hang clothes even though I have showed them over and over. I am sure it is not ability because I think all of a sudden when they want their shirts in the closet now that they are teens they figured out how to use a hanger. It is just amazing to witness the budding abilities of teens!

Back to Saturday, did I mention that it was Easter Saturday - the day after Good Friday and I forgot to pick up my hot cross buns and bunny shaped bread from the bread store that I ordered and paid for during the week. The hot cross buns were for Friday...oh, forget it....

So like I am getting all nervous and twisted trying to figure out if the clothes needs to be tackled first, or going to the antique store, or cleaning out the garage, or thinking about all the dresses I tried on for Easter but was a little too roly-poly to fit in....and I had a reason to not be my best, I did go to the doctor on Friday morning for Strep Throat and got the ole antibiotic shot in the butt.

And that reminds me that my husband's birthday was Friday and I completely missed it....again. Well, at least he celebrated it with our three teens by going to a matinee and grocery shopping before he came home to popping a few frozen items in the microwave and calling that dinner for him and the children.

So I get out of the shower, and have my pre-menopausal sweat - not sure it become full menopausal....as soon as I dress I open all the door...It can get hot real fast and I was trying to apply my new make-up that I just bought this week since I through all of mine away a few years ago....I was trying to go natural "and get used to what my real face looked like" in either defiance or an attempt to prove I liked myself.

I go to put on this make-up in the living room (the air circulation is better in there), and decide I need to call the children in to tell them today is the day we are all going through our clothes....get a black garbage bag, go through your room, including under the bed, in the closet and anywhere else you may find a pile and figure out what you still can or want to wear and what gets tossed to the Goodwill bag.

My husband was on the sofa, and I thought I was doing what I was suppose to be doing. He did say it was go through clothes day at our house. It is just one of my teens still hasn't learned the fine art of respect or un-grumbling obedience....who am I kiddin' I don't even think he has learned grumbling obedience...because about one minute after his grumble down the hallway to his room and two shirts tossed toward the fireplace, he was back on his computer playing the latest battling game.

Nothing can push me off the top faster then attitude, and a silent husband that tolerates it being directed toward me.....hey, what about taking up for me? Was I not asking what you wanted? Can you cover my back or even protect my front?

And of course, when I pop a cork and end up in my bedroom rattling how much I am freaking out and how I wish I had a place to go because it didn't matter if I stayed in this house because what I said never mattered and no one cared and I don't have a single place to go live except my own house so I kinda feel trapped like a mouse in a tall bucket with a cat meow over my head (this really did happen in our garage but a few minutes earlier)...

And my husband and son ask me if I have taken my medication because I am still ramble aloud as I am emptying my closet of ever single item of clothes I still presently own....

My husband holds his head saying he is so stressed out about my relationship with my son....and I think I scream something back....

But before I get the last stack of clothes out of the closet and onto the bed...the house gets quiet....everyone has left out of the back door...heading out of the crazy house and on to better places to go and things to do....

So I wedge myself between the dresser and bookcase and will myself to cry, but the tears don't come....a craving for a bowl of peanut butter m&m washed down by my left over coke from yesterday fills the place of tears and I sit on the bed surrounded by two feet high stacks of clothes, take an extra two anti-anxiety pills and start up my computer for hours of writing and trolling the internet.

My family returned about five or so - my sharp edge had dwindled into a coma like empty lump of a person but at least I was quiet and we could co-exist in the same dwelling.

And I toss and turn early Easter Morning feeling like a horrible step-child to God because I haven't made it to church in a few weeks struggling with what to wear, and why wont my children sit with me, and I don't feel I belong syndrome. I am sure many church-ladies experience this or should I say the church-misfit-ladies...I have qualified for that role in every church we have ever attended.

Why don't they just go ahead and pre-pare for folks like me with an oddball-I-don't-fit-in-church Care Group...small group....connection class....they keep changing the name for Sunday School Class...it is too old school and would work in our post-modern culture...or at least that is what is being taught at seminary these days.

So, how was your Holy Easter Weekend?

And why does it make me said to see a friend (not so much a friend) invite me to an Easter Egg Hunt from 10-12 at her house that has three cute children made bunnies around her front door? It just breaks my heart...that is the kinda mom I wanted to be...and this is what I ended up like!