I want to move to a desert island

  I don't know if it's the long winter, going off of Prozac or what, but I've had it with everyone. Today, my mother brought me to tears in Wal-Mart. I spend at least an hour to two hours every week taking her to shop for her groceries so she doesn't have to take the senior bus. At some point, we always split up in the store. Then, I usually spend a minimum of twenty minutes trying to find her. This week, I felt sick. Even after sitting on a bench and looking down the aisle, she hadn't reappeared and I wasn't feeling well at all. Eventually, we found her only to get accused of rolling my eyes and being impatient with her. I tried explaining that I felt sick only to have her wig out more. Then, I cried. To the point where a random stranger asked if I was alright. Can I just get a break somewhere in life? She apologized but the damage was done. Once I start crying it's like the first pee on a night of drinking. The well has sprung. Viggo tried to comfort me by saying this non-sequitur "Mom, even when I'm not with you, I'm always here" pointing to his heart. That, of course, made me cry harder. The wellspring of emotions was tapped again by an Ancestry.com commercial. 

  Later that night while texting with my boyfriend, he tried to express how he likes me in the worst way possible. He's telling me about girls on the trolley car with him. He tells me they "look good" but he hates what's coming out of their mouths. That, if he hadn't met me, he would stay in his single universe. Ok, I get the sentiment, but, fuck, can you not tell me in a way that says other girls look good?! I never want to hear that. Ever. Guys always think it's alright to express opinions about other girls. I'm only now slightly accepting of Jennifer Lawrence because one ex went so verbally wild when he saw her at the Oscars. I'm what you might call "insanely jealous". Emphasis on the insane part. That emphasis most likely came after bad relationships & cheating. He tried to make things better after his comment about the girls on the trolley by saying there are obviously good looking people in the world but, he would never cheat and blah, blah, blah, I quit listening. At this point, I'm hoping a rogue asteroid hits me directly on the spot. I was so sick of everyone and their reactions towards me. I know he meant well, but the way he said it made me feel like the guy who gets kicked into the pit in 300 after King Leonidas yells "This is Sparta!" 

  I know I'm being sensitive. Like I said, I've been down. This winter has bankrupted me emotionally and $96 gas bills have spent me financially. Yes, I have my health, I know. But, I've gained 10 pounds and my clothes fit me like I'm a human sausage. I need a day of sunlight and no human contact. No humans telling me I'm not working hard enough, not patient enough or that there are attractive people in the world. Shit, even if I have to be lied to, I'd like to be told I'm appreciated and the only attractive person in someone's eyes. I like to imagine Michael Fassbender saying these words after tonight because I'm angry. Also, because he's really hot. You know, there are attractive people in this world, so I've been told. I'll cool down at some point. Granted, being part Irish, this point may be long after I'm dead. I'll just go to bed feeling fatter than usual, unappreciated and unattractive. It's all good.

If you're obsessive-compulsive, don't read this (or read it over and over).

  When I started dating a Russian, I had no idea they'd be so superstitious. The problem with me is that I'm already obsessive-compulsive. Meaning, I've got my own weird superstitions. If you don't have this problem, then, you're fortunate. Imagine feeling like you have to do something a certain amount of times in a row just so you don't have bad luck. That's what it's like. It's something I moderately control, so it doesn't interfere with my life so much. However, now, thanks to my boyfriend, I now have new superstitions to follow.
  There's one similar to our "knock on wood" superstition, except you lightly spit over your shoulder three times instead of knocking. If you are talking about a physical injury that happened to someone and you show it on yourself, you have to grab the imaginary injury and blow it away from your hand. I was talking about my roommate's cat having a tumor in it's throat and I touched my own throat while describing it. My boyfriend interrupts me very seriously "No, babe, don't do that. Now you have to do this." He touches his throat, and blows this imaginary ailment from his hand like it was an eyelash. I was like, what the fuck is going on? I guess you do this to keep this injury from happening to you, too. He proceeded to tell me all the Russian superstitions he could think of in one night. Mentally, I took notes but they were hard to remember. There was something about meeting a woman carrying a bucket, but I let that one slip. Honestly, how many times could that occur in life? I was once again talking about the cat's tumor to a co-worker. I accidentally touched my throat as I was describing it and freaked. Confused about what to do, I blew from my hand AND spit over my shoulder three times. I must have looked like I was having an epileptic seizure. Dammit, I didn't want to have bad luck. When I told my boyfriend about the confusion, he just laughed and shook his head. "Babe, you just grab it and blow with your hand. You don't spit. That's for when you want something to happen." Silly me.
  I started taking these Russian superstitions so seriously. Apparently, you can't whistle inside or you'll become poor. Is that what's been going wrong all these years? I love to whistle, but screw that. It's humming from here on out. One night while we were eating, I dropped my fork. "Oh, a man is coming to see you", he said. "Or, maybe it's a woman. I forget." Which is it? He told me he'd research it. Exactly where does one find out this information? Does he skype with a grandmother in the motherland? You can't just lightly throw this information out to someone like me. It's gospel from this point on. If me dropping a fork means a man is coming to see me, then a man is coming to see me. These new rules are cemented in my brain. I just hope I never come across a woman carrying an empty bucket or I'm screwed.

OMG, I just exercised

  I just experienced ten minutes of cursing, pain and sweat. Yes, I finally exercised. Big deal, you say? Imagine someone with the willpower and motivation of Homer Simpson. I don't have any angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other; I have a devil and a fatter, lazier devil on the other. "Stay under the electric blanket watching Ancient Aliens" one says. "Eat something and then take a nap" says the other. There's motivation in my head, but it occurs when I'm at work. I get inspired to eat something healthy and exercise when I get home. The problem is that I'm on my feet for eight hours. After I get home, I'm emotionally and physically spent. You know how Mr. Rogers would change into his sweater and shoes when he came in the door? I throw on sweatpants and a thermal shirt the same way. That shit is on in less than a minute. If I could motivate myself to exercise like I motivate myself to get ready to relax, then I'd get somewhere. How can I harness this misspent energy? One answer-disgust with myself. I'm not talking about my laziness. I'm talking about my flab. This winter, I've definitely gained weight. Sad, but true.  I was wrestling with Viggo the other day and he pointed at my protruding stomach being held back with spanx and asked "What's that?" It must have looked like the walls of a dam before the water bursts through. Finally, tonight, I couldn't take looking down at that belly pouch. Lady, get a grip, I thought. Granted, I only did ten minutes of pilates, but in my world, it's like running a marathon. For now, I'll take baby steps. Maybe, or if, warmer weather arrives, I'll be able to take some walks. I have to do something. I feel like Brando when he was in Apocalypse Now. They had to change the fight scene with Martin Sheen because he was so out of shape. He should have looked at himself and said "Fuck, Marlon, get it together. " I'm going to try now before I'm past the point of no return.

Winter blows

  Like most people on the east coast, this winter is killing me. It's been a bombardment of snow, ice and bitter cold. This is the worst winter I can remember since '93. Geez, I sound really old making a statement like that. I only recall that winter because I lived with my grandparents at the time. My grandpap wanted me to shovel a tunnel from the back porch to the shed. He totally did one of those man things by telling me I was shoveling the snow wrong. Regardless, two days after I accomplished this task, I could barely move. I was a tiny lady back then. The winter now is miserable in so many ways. Walking is precarious. Tonight I slipped on ice and almost fell, twisting my back in a so not right way. My steps have become my daily Mt. Everest. When I make it to the front door, I feel like I should plant a flag by the door as a sign of accomplishment. Driving in this is even worse. My tires have been as bald as Patrick Stewart's head. My mom, bless her soul, lent me money for new tires. I can finally make it out of the space on my street without struggling. My apartment is pretty warm. That's because my roommate jams the heat. I half expect to see him walking around in Bermuda shorts with a Mai Tai drink, he keeps it so toasty. I miserly turn the heat back constantly. I grew up poor. You learn to layer your clothing and huddle under blankets, not rock the heat. But, I do keep my fingers crossed that the heat doesn't go out. It's happened twice this winter, which is always delightful.
  On the days when I grumble most, I get excited texts from my Russian boyfriend marveling over the snowfall. "Isn't it beautiful?", he'll declare. I'm glad someone can find the beauty. I can only worry about making it safely back and forth to work. These winters are probably nothing to my bf. I'm sure he's thinking we should suck it up. I should, at least. Maybe I shouldn't swear immediately upon exiting my front door in the morning. Sweltering summer will be here before we know it and we'll be whining about the heat. I'll just be happy when walking isn't like some high-wire circus act. Having the grace of a rhinoceros, it's only a matter of time before I fall down.

First world problems

  Let me start by saying that I'm very grateful to have a roof over my head. I don't take it for granted. However, I can complain about the constant problems where I live. At any given time, my roommate and I are doing without something. This week it's the kitchen sink. The roommate diagnosis is that the pipes are frozen. I think it's because of all the grease he dumps down the drain. Whatever the cause, it's hanging tough in there with an inch of stinking water that cannot be affected by a plunger. It makes me think back to some of the problems we've had here.
  In the five months I've been here, there's been quite a few. I'm trying to decide on the worst. It's a toss up between not having a light in the bathroom and the front door knob that fell off. Both of these problems lasted for two weeks. Imagine taking a freaking flashlight with you to pee in the night. Not fun. Plus, I missed the bathroom mirror to use to get ready in the morning. When I "put my face on" in my bedroom, I end up looking like a drag queen with no skills. The doorknob being missing meant we had to walk around the house to the back door, which had to be left unlocked. Neither of us have a key. Our only alarm system was the metal grate that you can't avoid loudly walking over to get to the back. I imagine maybe moonshiners in the south have the same alarm system.
  A couple of times, we've been without heat. It seems to go out on the coldest days. The polar vortex then resides directly in my soul as well as my room. My room is possibly the coldest at times. Imagine Harry Potter's cubby hole of a room attached a basement door and the draftiest window in existence. Voila, my room. Yes, I know I could move, but this place is cheap and I'm poor. The landlord does fix things in time. I think he's from eastern Europe. His philosophy, I'm sure, is to grow a set and deal with it for a while. Not being accustomed to luxury, I deal with it. It's not like Paris Hilton being dropped off at a farm. But, these things are still a huge nuisance. So, for now, I'll continue to wash my dishes in the bathroom and dream of a working sink.

Daily horoscope

  Even though I think they're bullshit, I read my horoscope everyday. Maybe I'm looking for a silver lining to what my day may potentially hold in store. Can you imagine one written from a realistic standpoint? I had an awful day, so I did.
  Monday- Don't expect to enjoy this day except for your lunch break when you read Buzzfeed articles. The rest of the day will be spent in a meeting where you'll hate yourself and 1-4 co-workers, feeling stupid and possibly fending off the flu. At night, you'll suffer from insomnia. Enjoy.
  Tuesday-Expect to feel tired from lack of sleep and still sick. Early in the day, you'll think about healthy eating and exercising only to eat meat loaf at night while watching The Good Wife.
  Wednesday-Really? Do you expect anything from this day? Who likes Wednesday? No one, that's who.
  Thursday- At some point today, someone will point out something that you jacked up. You'll feel stupid, Later on, you'll attempt to meet up with your boyfriend, only to misunderstand each other's texts resulting in a fight rather than dinner. He didn't read that vital text about where to meet. Meet him anyway. He's adorable and thrills your heart. You won't regret it.
  Friday- Your last work day. Expect to sit in about an hour's worth of traffic on your way to WV, all the while wondering if your car will make it. Listen to Joe Rogan's podcast and forget your worries. You get to see you kid tonight. That's what it's all about.
  Saturday & Sunday- These may be your days off, but not on your mom's watch. She will make you spend two hours at Wal-Mart, while she gets her groceries. You wouldn't want her taking that senior bus, would you? Expect your child to try to get a toy, complain about how hungry he is and tell you he saw his second grade teacher. Also, expect to see lots of pajamas and camouflage in public.
  This is a more accurate horoscope for me. It's not always like this, but I had a shitty day. If you want something positive, go read the Dalai Llama

What to expect when you're getting older

  There are a ton of pregnancy books telling you what's in store for you, but nothing telling you about getting older. Granted, it wouldn't be the most uplifting reading. I've discovered many things that younger people can expect in their future. 

  Basically, your body starts falling apart. One day you're eating something and come across something very hard in your food. Is it a rock? No, it's part of your tooth. I have two teeth that have broken apart. It seems to be the norm for my age group. There was an old man in the store the other day whose false teeth came out. "Goddamn teeth" he muttered. That's my future. 

  I've noticed steps hurt my bones. At first, I thought it was just the steps to my apartment. Then, I discovered it is all steps. 

  Remember pulling all-nighters or getting barely enough sleep to function? Yeah, you don't do that past 40. Eight hours is mandatory. You also have to sleep a certain way or you hurt. I sleep like Nosferatu- flat on my back. Any other way and I wake up with awful pain in my neck and shoulders. In your twenties, you usually discover this fact. How did you injure yourself? Oh, I took a nap. If I sleep on my side, I need an ice pack, Aleve and Icy Hot for the rest of the day. 

  When you wake up from this sleep, you'll have to pee. Now. If you wait, you can barely walk. You'll be walking to the bathroom like Groucho Marx. 

  So far, this is all I've noticed. Well, I forgot to mention how I seem to have lost my depth perception. I park like I'm ninety, about two feet away from the curb. 

  I'm sure more things will pop up. Until then, I'm going to savor my youth.