I’m every woman

We go through life thinking that we are each unique – unlike any other human that has ever lived on this planet, confident that there will never again be another person quite like us. And I believe that this is true, and yet I was reminded this weekend that sometimes we are more alike than perhaps we care to admit.

I was having a conversation with my mom Friday afternoon. I was talking to her about how I’ve been feeling lately. Last winter I asked my doctor to put me on Welbutrin. It helped for a while, but now I’m not sure that’s the right thing for me. I don’t feel sad or depressed. Mostly I’m just pissed off. I spend a fair amount of time feeling overwhelmed, frustrated, angry, unappreciated…. You get the idea. I hate feeling this way. And I have no idea how much of it is genuine, how much is circumstance, how much is hormonal… I don’t know where these feelings are coming from. Mom was talking about deciding to go back on her Celexa because she felt so irritable when she went off it. Yeah, irritable – there’s an understatement.

I have some legitimate gripes – my son has decided he wants to dress like some sort of hooligan – sporting 3 or 4 inches of boxers sprouting out over his jeans – jeans that seemed to be held up by a wing & a prayer. He looks like he has a load in his diapers. I might not object if his attitude weren’t so lousy, but really. There are times I just want to duct tape his mouth shut. I never thought I’d be a parent who felt this way – my son is very much loved and wanted. But I confess I don’t like him much these days.

I am working hard at work – I’m still in the first year of a new job so it is very demanding. I really enjoy my work, I have a great team, and I work for a company that I am proud to work for. Not only are we well respected, but I truly believe we try very hard to provide extraordinary service to our customers. But it still can be the source of some frustration.

Stuff at home is very busy – hub is working extra and I am picking up some of the slack. That means I don’t have time to work out or do for myself the way I’d like to.

So, like many women in my position, I’m tired & cranky, feel overworked and underappreciated, and the only place I can seem to find any solace is in a bowl of cheese. There has to be more to it than this, but I’m not sure what that would be, or how to find it.

Anybody got the buddha’s phone number??????