I’m having a bad day

It isn't the kind of bad day where bad stuff keeps happening. Actually things have gone pretty smoothly. It is my brain that's revolting. (yes, take that both ways) I'm crabby and bitchy. And sad. For no apparent reason.

I went into the drug store to pick up one of Twitch's anti-twitch medicines. It was horrible. I got so depressed looking at the Christmas decorations. The sale labels on the shelf made me sad. The display of skin lotion in the aisle almost made me cry. The carpet on the floor put me in a funk. The red Formica at the pharmacy counter was too much to bear. This isn't healthy.

And speaking of not healthy, my brain is telling me things that all the counseling I've had instructs me not to listen to. Stuff like "I'm a failure." "Get over yourself." "Can't you just do what needs to be done without being such a wimp?" "I'm useless." Yup, one of those days. I'm sure some of you know exactly what I mean.

I got into another argument with Twitch tonight. It was more of a bitch session than an argument, really, and he handled it much better than I did. I bitched at him, he yelled at me. Then he beat a hasty retreat. He's no dummy. A few minutes later he came back and calmly explained the contradictions he heard in my arguments. He was right, and I apologized. But the whole thing was frustrating, particularly the subject of the argument.

And here's where I'm a failure. He's hungry. He's a very large (over 6' now, I think, and hunky. Soft jelly belly with a lot of mass underneath.) 16 year old boy. Of course he's hungry. And there isn't a lot of food in the house right now, at least nothing that's easy to fix. He got down a can of chicken from the stash Superman had tried to hide from him. He put it in a bowl, poured some kind of goopy stuff on it (I didn't pay attention to what it was) and ate the whole can worth of chicken. And I was planning to use the canned chicken to make a simple chicken and dumpling soupy mush thing. Shit, boy! I hollered.

Here's where the whole failure thing comes into play. I don't usually cook dinner anymore. Superman does it if anything gets cooked at all. Many evenings the kids are left to scrounge what they can from leftovers, cans of soup, and mac&cheese boxes. Yuck. And there is very little of the simple stuff left on the shelves right now. I was actually planning to cook that dumpling mush tonight, but none of the kids knew that. So to come out and find him eating a can of chicken… well, it is largely my fault. None of them knows if or when I'm planning to cook, and they are used to feeding themselves, so it comes as no surprise to find him feeding himself. If (and here's the bullshit again) I were a good mommy, a proper provider for my family, I would have some nutritious meals planned, the ingredients stocked, and preparation underway or at least set up when we get home in the evening. But I don't. Shit.

Having already blown my cool, my emotions were on edge. Sproing walks into the kitchen with his boxers hanging out the top of his pants. I flipped out. He is not going to walk around looking like a gangsta', emulating all the worst aspects of today's delinquent youth culture. Yada yada, bitch, fuss, yell, lecture. He makes excuses, denies the intent; which may or may not be true, but I can't hear it just now.

To top it all off, it seems the kidlets have no clothes to wear. They used to. They did very recently. But now their clothes are nowhere to be found. How does this happen? No kidlet clothes in the dirty laundry, none folded on the counter, none in their shelves or drawers, none on the bathroom floor, almost none on the bedroom floor. Where the hell are their clothes???? I am aware they both need new socks. I've been throwing away holey socks for some time now, and the supply is depleted. Diva needs new underwear. She's grown a lot over the past 6 months or so and really needs a new supply. But she allegedly has lots of pairs of pants, many shirts. Sproing has shirts, and at least a few pants. But where are they? Shit.

I'm gonna pop a Fuckitall and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to deal. A good night sleep would have helped a lot. Right now I've only got time for an almost reasonable night's sleep.