richness

My words are not precious.

When I was a kid I told my sister that she only had a certain number of words she could say in her life, and once she used up all of her words she'd die. For the next few days she barely spoke at all.

I was a jerk. (Still am.)

Probably the opposite is true--the more words I use, the happier I'll be and the longer I'll live.

I'm stressed. I don't know about what precisely, though it seems like this time of year (the end of the semester) is just stressful. Derrick's super busy and absent, and even when he comes home at a reasonable time he sits on his computer and works, so even when he's home he isn't really home. Finals are next week, so at least he'll be done soon and back to his more reasonable absenteeism.

It's also my birthday this Friday. My 40th birthday. I know it's just a number and I'm only as old as I feel and 40 isn't that old and blah blah whatever. I feel like a loser. I used to have ambitions. I really just don't anymore. I'm too tired. Too depressed. I finish things slowly, if at all. I should feel happy this week--yesterday I finished (more or less) the growth chart I started when Kip was a baby. Since he's almost 4. Because it's taken so long, though, I'm underwhelmed by it. I'm underwhelmed by myself.

I am a good cook, and really, that's where I've put so much of my time and effort. I've become expert at cooking.

Whoop-de-freakin'-do.

I like cooking, so there is that, though today I've felt stressed while cooking. Like I can feel my abdomen tensing up when I stand in front of the stove, and when I eat. It's like I know I've squandered my life standing there, chopping and frying and stirring; creating ephemeral monuments that nobody else cares about. Sure, some people enjoy them (not my kids), but hours and hours and HOURS of effort and at the end of it all I have is the promise of another job. It's so hopelessly domestic, so hopelessly, eternally feminine of me to sacrifice my time on making something that will be consumed in a matter of minutes and then forgotten.

In case you were wondering, there is no actual end to this post. It's simply a catalog of my complaints and negativity today.