Welp, this is going to be a text-heavy post. Apologies in advance.
I spent all day suffering from separation anxiety — I wanted to get back home to bond some more with my camera! (I need to give it a name… I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.) Combined with the fact that I’m generally a fast-moving person, I was less than thrilled to find myself behind someone who was hogging the entire width of the staircase on my way out of the office. So, like any halfway normal person would do, I said, “Excuse me.” Maybe I’m nuts, but I believe that an appropriate response to that would be to move over to one side (where you should have been in the first place, because there is supposed to be enough room for people to go up and down at the same time!!).
Well. You would have thought I’d demanded her first-born child! I quote: “What the f*** do you want me to do?!” How about not swearing at me, for starters?! Goodness. And, as I tend to do, I was feeling all upset and guilty about what happened, but then I realized that it really isn’t my fault if some people have such a huge chip on their shoulders that it’s a miracle they can stand upright at all. I mean the type of person who makes me look like Sally Sunshine, which, believe me, is no easy feat.
So, I got on the subway, and when I emerged on the other end of my ride, my phone informed me that I had a new voicemail message. It was my sister. “Hi, it’s _____, I wanted to tell you something.” Now, I may look stupid, but I’m not as stupid as I look. I knew what she wanted to tell me. And it had a lot to do with that cryptic statement my dad made to me on Sunday.
In short? My niece is getting engaged. (Yes, that niece.)
On Sunday. AKA, the day I am leaving on my vacation. Which I planned long before she ever went out with this guy. So when my sister tells me, “I’m not telling you what to do, and I understand if you can’t change your plans or cancel your ticket / reservation, but [niece’s name]’s engagement party is going to be on Monday“… yeah. Honestly, I’m not that upset to be missing it. Not because I’m jealous of her — quite the contrary. I’m the type of person who can live independently. She absolutely is not. (For crying out loud — she isn’t even legal!!) I shall have to make do with inanimate loves in my life, like my camera! However, I don’t care to subject myself to the yentas… who will look at me as the poor pitiful spinster aunt.
Of course, I’m not telling my sister that I am glad that I won’t be there since I don’t want to be there — that would just be tactless — but I did tell my mom. And she tells me that I am “better” than my niece, because I am “prettier and smarter than she is,” and it’s just “this one thing” that ruined it for me. (“This one thing” = my eating disorder.) First of all, she is confusing “smart” with “educated.” I am not smarter than my niece; I just have more expensive pieces of paper that claim I am! Anyway, I really don’t like to do the whole “what if” thing, and I’m not very pleased right now.
Not to mention… now I am actually going to have to go to a wedding. And it really, really wouldn’t look good for me to wind up inebriated at said wedding, which is going to pose a major, major problem.
Sadly, because of all the inner turmoil related to this crap, I did not get to spend much quality time with my camera at all. I tried to take a picture of this with the new camera, but it wouldn’t cooperate, so I just used the old one. Consequently, you can’t really see anything…
See that pink spot? It’s an insect bite. From last night’s flying creature. I know it doesn’t look it, but it is huge. As in, it covers a third of my upper arm.
And because I don’t want this to accumulate in my media library, I’m going to plop it in here. Heaven forbid anyone in this house should voluntarily eat a fresh vegetable, so I need to use up what I’ve got before I leave. And I have some tofu that needs to be used as well, so to kill a few birds with one stone…
Tofu, baby carrots, baby bellas; and there are snow peas underneath all of that.
I poured some diluted Dijon mustard over it all and popped it in the oven.
With bulgur. It was good, but it would have been an awful lot better if I didn’t have to eat while I was upset. I’ve noticed that a lot recently: whenever I feel like that and I have to eat, I always worry that I’m falling victim to “emotional eating.” Which is silly, I guess, since it doesn’t make me feel better. Not even for a second.
This post was supposed to help me sort out what I am thinking and / or feeling, but it hasn’t quite accomplished that. Too bad, sucks to be me, I’m going to bed.
The Question of the Day would have been whether I’m being a selfish bitch by not canceling my (non-refundable) vacation, but I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going to cancel it anyway. I’m going to go and feel guilty about it. Whoo!
Have a happy Hump Day.
“A healthy body and soul come from an unencumbered mind and body.”