My morning was like this…
I’m angry! I’m angry because I have too many towels and not enough socks!
I’m angry because the socks I’m wearing are being munched up by my shoes as I
stomp walk around the house!
I’m angry that I can’t make the bloody word house sit under the bloody word munched… argh!
I’m angry at the clock because the big hand is pointing to the 10 and the little hand is pointing to the 6 and the second hand won’t stop jumping from one stupid little mark to the other. (And I may or may not have gone back to sleep this morning and I may or may not be really angry about that too)!
I’m angry that I made Doug two cups of tea instead of one for me and one for him… he has milk… I don’t. Yes, I’m angry about that because if I wasn’t allergic to dairy products that second cup would be history by now!
I’m angry that the bread won’t toast to golden perfection and where the hell did all those dishes come from and will that bloody chirping bird outside stop being so bloody… chirpy!
I’m angry that there is not enough room on the clothes line for my limited supply of wet socks because… yes, you guessed it… there are TOO MANY DAMN TOWELS out there that are supposed to be flapping in the so far non-existant breeze getting all fluffy!
I’m angry that the slapping of my feet on the floor isn’t making anywhere near enough noise to match the noise of my mood and why do we have all internal sliding doors anyway and no damn swinging doors to slam?!
I’m angry that I look funny with my jeans rolled up because I’m too short for the standard short length jeans and they are swallowing my insignificant size 5 feet. I’m bloody angry I haven’t learned how to take them up!
I’m angry that yet again I am throwing out soggy and brown veg because it won’t stay fresh enough for long enough for me to get my juicing motivation into gear!
I’m angry that my diary says we are 11 days into June! I’m angry that 6 months have gone by and I have done
Sweet F nothing… I have achieved… nothing!
I’m angry my beloved must endure waking every morning in chronic pain!
I’m angry at the mess, I’m angry at the dust, I’m angry at the piles of paper work that snicker at me every time I walk past “Yeah, right, we were going to be filed by the end of April. Ha, loser, we knew that wouldn’t happen”. (Smirky faced little brats… incinerator is looking good for you lot)!
I’m angry that my body still aches, my joints still pain, my head still hurts, that my brain is custard and can’t follow a simple shopping list!
I’m angry I have no motivation, no energy, I’m still depressed, I’m not walking 30 minutes every day, that I’ve only been to the gym 7 times in 6 months and now the sun is shining trying to make me feel guilty about being angry for all of the above instead of grateful for being alive and on the road to recovery and most of all cancer free!
I’m angry this is only my 4th blog post because I don’t believe in myself. I’m angry it’s crap!
I’m angry I got cancer… woah… back up… there it is… festering little sucker. I’m. still. angry. I. got. cancer.
I’m angry that it has stolen a year and a half of my life. I’m angry I didn’t cope with treatment. I’m angry that treatment did such a number on me. I’m angry I had to spend so much time in hospital. I’m angry I was unable to function. I’m angry that my family and friends had to watch me go through this. I’m angry that it has changed their life too. I’m angry that I suffered debilitating post-traumatic stress, agitated depression and anxiety. I’m angry that I look one hundred years old and have grey hairs I didn’t have before all my hair fell out and then grew back again… thick, curly and grey… I’m angry that I am petrified the cancer is going to come back.
I’m angry this post is now so damn long!
I’m angry that I am angry!
So what the hell are you going to do about it Sandra? What the hell are you going to do about it?
First of all these bloody useless socks have got to go. Yes Ladies and Gentleman it may be a white frost outside and the bird bath has frozen over (so why is that damn bird so chirpy?) and I am freezing
what’s left of my tits off my butt off, but I am taking a stand and going sockless… yes sockless!
Second of all… second of all… ummm… ahem… second of all…
Well I’ve thrown the bloody socks in the bin what more do you want for one day?
No… wait… I’ve decided to send this post to the amazing Mrs Woog at Woogsworld because she is awesome and hilarious and I’d like to have a post on guest post Sunday one day… Very blog newbie cheeky of me I know (anxiety attack hitting me about… right now)!
I’m also going to link this up to Kelly Exeter’s (my blog crush) at ‘ A life less frantic’ and the Weekend Rewind to flog my blog (okay panic attack setting in about… right now) because I’m angry about not believing in myself!
And I know that you won’t know what any of that means so click on the blue linked words okay that took me forever to work out how to do… yes I’m angry about that too!
And… well… the rest will have to wait… BECAUSE I’M OFF TO BUY NEW BLOODY SOCKS!
(And I want to add “SO THERE!” at this point but that would be very childish so I’ll leave it out!)
And maybe I’ll go to the hairdresser… and the seamstress… and the beautician for a facial! … … … um yeah… … I think that’s all… and enough!
Are you angry because you have no socks? Hmmm?