Swallowing my Tears

While doing meticulous research for this post, I came across this quote:

Swallow your tears.  Hide your frown.  Never let life bring you down.

Wow.  Profound.  Profoundly stupid.  This sounds like something Jack Handey would say on Deep Thoughts.  By the way, Jack is a real person.  You can buy books of his quotes.  In fact, Kurt Cobain quoted him in the Nirvana song, I Hate my Life and Want to Die.  And just in case you're as curious as I am, here's the quote:

"Most people don't realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer." -Jack Handey

I wouldn't suggest googling the rest of the lyrics to the song.  Or more of Jack's quotes.  Unless you're really bored.  Or avoiding work/dishes/laundry.

Ok, back to the title of this post.  Last night I had a "moment."  Kiddo left for school Tuesday.  My sleep cycle is totally disrupted.  The Daddler's still having problems with peeing - told the urologist this morning that he has to get up three times during the night since the procedure two weeks ago.  Strangely enough, I was up five times last night, needing to pee.  And I never have to do that.  One of the times, though, I was already up because Bulimic Cat was crying outside the door to my Enchanted Aerie.  I would've ignored her, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd fed her.  I was more than slightly pissed (pardon the pun) when I got to the kitchen and saw that her bowl was full.  I gave her fresh water and cussed her out and headed back upstairs.  What was up with that?

I really do have a point to this.  My moment.  I fell asleep sometime in the late afternoon and woke up around 6:30  (I know, I know, that's probably why I can't sleep during normal-people time).  Realized The D hadn't had supper.  Went downstairs and told him I was sorry I hadn't fixed anything.  He said it was ok, and that he wasn't hungry.  I wished he'd been mad so I wouldn't have felt so guilty.  I asked him if he wanted some fruit and he made a face and shook his head.    So I made him a turkey sandwich, without asking if he wanted it.  Sliced a tomato and a peach.  Took it to him.  His face lit up.

As if the combination of sleep deprivation, missing Kiddo and guilt over The Hungry Daddler wasn't enough, some sort of gospel music in the style of the Bill Gaither Trio was blaring on the TV.  Maybe it was the Trio even though I think there were more than three of them.  Either way.  It triggered my meltdown.  My life just seemed so pathetic.  And the whole weekend was stretching ahead of me.  And JoJo was already after me to go Salsa dancing.  Which would really just be Jo dancing while I guarded the purses and avoided eye contact with potential dance partners.  And as bad as sitting at home alone is, it's better than that.  Sorry, JoJo.

I trudged up the stairs, cried my head off, and called Deb.  She is so sweet.  Such a good listener.  Sometimes, so good that I think the call got dropped.  I'll say, "Are you there?"  And she'll say, "I'm here."  Sweeter words were never spoken.  I love her.  Couldn't do this without her.

We talked some more and decided that if the Evil Former Sister From Hell died, we wouldn't attend her funeral.  I said I guess I'd have to drop The Daddler off.  Maybe I could get him a ride with one of the DeSoto County relatives (with gas being so high, it would be expensive to drive to Little Rock and back).  They love funerals.  And they're mostly in EFSFH's camp.

We decided it was a moot point and that she'll outlive all of us.  Mean people always do.  Still, it was fun to think about.  If you think this sounds awful, just read some of my early blog posts and you'll understand completely.

When Deb and I hung up, I was all cried out.  I had a splitting headache, though.  And I never get headaches.  Except when I cry really hard.  I was kinda dehydrated, too (maybe that caused the headache) and really thirsty, so I drank lots of water, which is probably why I had to pee all night.

When I knew I wouldn't go to sleep and I didn't want to listen to the talk radio topic of alien abductions and hybrids, I went in search of a book.  I'd just finished the last one.  After reading the back cover of several that looked horribly depressing, I found a light mystery by Janet Evanovich.  It made me laugh out loud.  That felt good.  At 4:45, I decided I'd go on and get up so I could prepare for my 10:00 meeting, and it seemed like I should get up right at 5:00, and of course, the next thing I knew, it was 6:15.  And now I've wasted too much time on this stupid blog.

It helps, though.  It's therapeutic.  I'm feeling much better today.

And now it's time to get busy.  Later...