Revoking My Invitation to the Pity Party

No one can bring me down like I can.  I’m truly my own worst enemy when it comes to my own imperfections.  I can spot one tiny personality flaw, focus on it with eagle eye precision and then zoom in until what was the size of a pebble is now a looming mountain and I am sitting glumly in its shadow.  And once I am there, I begin to tell myself that if I really was the together person I profess to be, I wouldn’t be sitting there wallowing in unhappiness over being less than perfect, which of course only serves to underline the point that I am horribly, horribly flawed.

Being the prepared person that I am have a bag of tricks that I rely upon to pull myself out of such slumps but sometimes no matter how many gratitude lists I make, or long walks I take, or how supportive the friends I call upon are, my mind simply won’t turn around and before I know it I’m sitting on the couch, two cups into a bottle of red wine, weeping over episode upon episode of a BBC period drama. 

Before you ask, there isn’t any major problem going on in my life right now.  Last night’s boo hoo fest was 100% self inflicted, likely brought on by being too tired (why don't I take care of myself better?  I suck.) and worrying too much about how to accomplish my ever lengthening to do list (why don't I plan better?  I suck).  This is good and bad.  Good because if I talked myself into it, I can likely talk myself out of it.  Bad because I was able to bring myself there in the first place.

So yes, that woman who was sniffling on my futon while watching Masterpiece Theater on Neflix?  Yes, the one who was only one kitty cuddle and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s away from being a spinster stereotype? Last night, that woman was me.

Thankfully today is a new day and I have managed to pull myself out of my mini-wallow. Really, it doesn’t count as a full on wallow unless it includes one 24 hour period of not leaving the house.  Tonight I will be venturing out to listen to a friend’s band, perhaps dance a bit and uninviting myself to any more of my own pity parties.

Here’s hoping Friday night treats all of us well. 

Yes.

Yes,  I set up the laptop on the kitchen counter so I could continue working my way through season two of Desperate Housewives while preparing to cook a quiche.

Yes, I brought in a chair, sat down with my feet propped on the counter and munched on olives and drank a glass of wine while waiting for that quiche to cook.

Yes, I ate a slice of the quiche and watched another episode and had another glass of wine.

Yes, I let the cat hop into my lap and fall asleep.

Yes, I clicked "Next Episode" a second time and poured one more glass of wine.

Yes, I'm a smart, funny, interesting, attractive woman who is choosing to spend this particular, stormy Friday night in this manner without shame.

Yes, this blog is anonymous...