I feel like such a wimpy victim these days. I ask 'why' way too often. Why can't I lose weight? Why am I so lonely? Why won't my endo up my meds? Why is my husband a jerk to me more than I'd like to admit? Why can't someone die and leave us lots of money? Why do I keep thinking of John? For that matter, why do I keep thinking of Spiff? And Will? Why do I still have clothes in boxes that will NEVER fit again? Why do I not give a shit about the way I look despite not ever wanting to be frumpy mom? Why do I feel like I'm turning into frumpy mom? Why am I so damn tired all the time? Why are some of my coworkers complete arses? Why can't I get my act together?
You get the idea. Now go back to reading some other, more cheerful blog. Bah.