Come On, Get Happy!

The Diatribest Enjoying the Spring-like Air

	So I know I've been Little Miss Cranky Pants these past few posts, but I think it was a necessary evil for me.  Just as babies grow clingy and regress prior to learning something new, I too have felt the need to pull  back into my shell and work myself up into a lather.  I have not been good at speaking up for myself in the past but I think I've found the strength and extra push that I've needed.
	Once this fair if over, I'll have to make some more sense of it all.

My X Factor

Most of my adult life, I have allowed myself to be stepped on like a mud-caked doormat.  I am my own worst critic, quite quick to condemn myself yet reassure and soothe others in similar situations without a seconds hesitation or condescension.

I am tired of living my life as a self-imposed second class citizen.  I'm tired of thinking that I don't deserve anything better than the scraps left for the dogs.  I'm over making lousy decisions because I don't believe that I am really worthwhile.  Quite frankly, I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!

You know how I discovered my X factor?  It was watching two miserable people fuss at my child today, right in front of my face.  That's. Just. Wrong.

If I don't want my son to grow up battling the same demons I wrestle with, he's going to have a see a better, strong example of his mother.  If I want him to strive for the best, than I need to be a woman that doesn't settle for second or third best any more. 

If You Are Looking For A Good Time, You Won't Find It Here Tonight

I am in no mood to write tonight.  I am full of piss and vinegar, surrounded by negative thoughts.  I'm only here tonight b/c of that damn bet which I refuse to lose.

How the hell are things supposed to be getting better?  Unemployment numbers are still crazy high, cost of living is skyrocketing, and each time I visit the gas station I wince.  At this point, I think a pony and carriage would be a better deal. 

I am tired of being screwed over.  I'm irritated that well laid plans are shot to hell in two minutes flat.

I'm angry that I can't stay home with my child.  I want to whine and complain about all that sucks about singlemotherhood. 

Right now I hate the sounds of baby's in Church, not because I don't like babies, but because right now their babbling and squeals of joy serve as a bitter pill that I won't be having a baby anytime soon. 

I have nothing good or nice to say right now.  I know that these frustrations are fleeting and usually boil up when I am over-tired, but damn it all, I'm pissed off.

And I swear if anyone says to me that me "getting some" will help my attitude, then I'll probably be asking you, my dear readers to help pony up for bail money b/c I am going to physically assault that person.  I figure if I'm not having sex, then at least I can kick someone's ass to help relive my stress. 

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Tonight's post is a photo essay because I don't think my words would do justice to the beauty of this day.

Indian Rocks Beach

Favorite Uncle digging a trench

Notice that the sand around the Kiddo is barely touched. 

I saw a picture of desert sands like this once.

My sole contribution: a pretty shell

I took a nap on the sand while listening to the crash of the waves

You can't see that I desperately need to paint my toenails. Yes the water was cold, but frozen fingers be damned!  The boys had a blast. . .and purple lips.

The Kiddo and his Favorite Uncle waiting for their food at Steak-n-Shake.