Is this heat ever going to end? We've been teased with thunderstorms so much, and not many have really come through. Even though I know in the grand scheme of things one thunderstorm at the end of a hot humid day is not really going to cool things off but more likely make things more humid and sticky instead, I still like they way the quiet down the day, cut out the noise of sun and heat, and bring about some peace. I find too much light or a too bright day/room to be "noisy." I don't know how else to describe it. Maybe that's yet another reason I'm addicted to mellow, mood-lit coffee shops. I think it's partially the blue eyes (I'm a whore for sunglasses - can't leave the house without them, even in winter), partially my state of mind. There so much swirlling around up there that crowding it with bright lights seems unnecessary.
I've really not been doing well lately. It seems like grandpa's death was a turning point of sorts. I was literally sick for 2 weeks afterwards from what we can only assume to have been stress and anxiety. And while I'm not nauseause or having daily headaches, my head and heart don't feel any better. I broke down last night, cried for the first time in I don't know how long. I was so angry and Jim, at myself, at the world. I wanted to throw things. Shoes, dishes, punches, whatever. I wanted to scream my head off. I wanted to go into my non-existant studio and put those emotions to canvas. Instead I ate half a bag of potato chips that I was stupid enough to buy at the groccery. Then Jim got all huffy because I didn't want to talk about it. More like I didn't know what to say. Maybe, Jim, instead of trying to therapize someone, just giving them a hug and letting them lead the way on talking might make you less of an asshat. Just a thought.
Today my eyes are puffy and aching. The unfortunate aftermath of a good cry. Otherwise I feel drained. I dread another hot summer morning with a toddler whose attention span is approximately 2.4 seconds and whose favorite activity is climbing on top of my head. I wish I could just park her in front of PBS all day with a hamsterwheel for exercise and one of those automatic dog bowl feeders full of goldfish crackers. I'd climb back into bed and try to feel normal. Instead, we'll probably haul off to the pool when Sesame Street is over and camp out for a few hours. I have no brain power right now to come up with anything else that will keep her occupied and prime her for actually taking an afternoon nap. If she doesn't nap? I will surely have a meltdown again.