I feel like a caca samich

According to my husband, “I always feel bad.” It is true, I usually feel like crap. I agree that my feeling bad is increasing over time, and for so many reasons. I am overweight, again, something that I have struggled with most of my adult life.

I want a better quality of life but I feel overwhelmed by life in general. Let me break down my typical week for you.  Monday morning. I have to be out of the house by 7 am to make it to work by 8 am. Some mornings the traffic is not too terrible, I will get there about 15 minutes early and other mornings it is awful, and I make it just in time. There is unfortunately no way to tell what it is going to be from day to day. I am there, sitting at my desk until 5 pm. I do have an hour lunch but, I usually only take a half hour. I tend to just stay at the office and not leave for my lunch. I started this because I am in school and I would prefer to use my time to catch up on my assignments and reading for class. If I leave to go out to lunch, I have just enough time to get somewhere, plow through some food and get back to work. This always leaves me feeling rushed. Therefore, I really would rather stay in and bring my lunch. Anyway, I leave here by 5 pm and again it is the Russian roulette of traffic. I have been able to make it home as quickly as a half hour occasionally and sometimes it takes as long as an hour. It typically is about a 45-minute drive. So finally, I get home and the puppies are so happy to see me. I always feel like they think I was never coming back. I get my 10 minutes of “Oh My Gawd, I missed you” loving from them and then they are off to do the things dogs do. Usually they take the opportunity of suddenly having an audience to heart and decide to put on a show. It is invariably a wrestling show complete with a lot of deep throated growling and some yippy high-pitched barking. At least we know they love us. I would love to relax but there is always something to be done. I swear I feel like as soon as I get to sit in my chair and I reach for my cross stitch, a book or my computer and I get asked what is for dinner. Then maybe there is time to squeeze in a little tv watching and I will try to do some cross stitching or homework. NO matter what I am doing I get the feeling he feels I am ignoring him and neglecting him if I am doing something. It does not seem to matter that I am sitting next to him in the living room in front of the TV. (Which he will most likely have turned to some show or movie that I do not have the slightest bit of interest in.) I just sit and take it anyways. Then around 9:30 or 10 pm it is off to bed to do it all over again. I am always tired. He almost always jumps into bed before me. I have to take a moment to brush my teeth and generally prepare for bed, where as he does not seem to have to. So finally, as I crawl into my side of the bed, I am counting off how many hours I have until I have to get up and do it again. This is a horrible routine that I am convinced adds to my general misery, yet I continue to be unable to break the habit. I wake up the next morning, usually around 5:30 or 6 am. I am so tired! I feel completely exhausted and just want to go back to sleep. Which I usually do until I just simply have to get up or I will not make it to work on time. I typically linger in the bed for as long as I can push it. Roll out, throw on some clothes, brush my teeth, put my hair up and take off. I have given up on the concept of wearing make up. It just takes too long and for what? To sit in my office alone looking all made up? Why bother?

A little more on cooking, me, and our relationship.

I have to admit that the concept of cooking and I have a long-standing Love-Hate relationship. I have come to greatly resent the constant NEED for and demand to cook.  This actually was the driving force behind my little trial of the cook once a month concept. It was a tremendous amount of work to plan and prepare but it took such an amazing amount of stress off me. The problems I ran into were just finding things that worked. The recipes needed to be stuff that my husband would not turn his nose up at and would actually eat.

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