“If, despite a marked self-centeredness, you somehow manage to end up with everything everyone has ever wanted, keep it to yourself.”

This was the last sentence in a book review,of all things, about Eat Pray Love.It was more profound to me personally than helpful in deciding whether or not to check the book out of the library.

The last week or so, I’ve been consumed with jealousy and envy, spitting venom at nearly anyone who has something I don’t have.My normally satisfied self sees other people living a life I’m supposed to be living.

No one is immune to my envy. The bitch who just got a Dyson to the stupid woman who’s perfect little angel sits through storyhour and asks intelligent pointed questions while my monster runs around like a madman and can’t sit still for 2 minutes,let alone a whole reading of Frog & Toad Together. Patooey. I spit on them. In my head,anyway.Spitting on people is not polite,even if they deserve it.

If I had a Penfield Mood Organ , I’d find the setting to dial for “muted jealousy and loathing for others and their good fortune”. Then I could say “Congrats” and “good for you” and really mean it.Well, sort of really mean it. It would be an artificially induced sincerity. Oh,nevermind…just forget it. It’s no different from what I’m doing now.

Next week I’m sure this mood will fade. Now I just want everyone to STFU about their stupid new house and their 3 week vacation without kids and their honeymoon in Tuscany and the 30 pounds they lost and their new book deal and how much better they can knit than I can.

Hmmph.

Yesterday was my littlest guy’s birthday. He’s now three.

No,really. No joke. Despite it being April Fools Day, it really was his birthday.

Someday when he’s old enough to appreciate it, I’ll make meatloaf and ice it with fluffy white mashed potatoes and try to pass it off as a cake. Haha. April fools. Whee.

Mother Nature is a tease. I was all excited with her 60 some degree weather yesterday and then she had to let me down just like a lover with an erect penis going limp on me. Boo. back down to 30s today.Fiddlesticks.

The children have bestowed a stomach bug upon me. I’ll spare you all  the details and be back with a proper blog post when I’m feeling human again.

Last night I enjoyed the musical stylings of Ragged Sole. Mind you, I was in my bedroom trying to sleep while they played in the bar next door. On the plus side, they weren’t terrible, which caused me to wonder if someone local had read previous blog entries in which I bitch about the horrible cover bands that play next door and reported my bitchings to the owner.

I don’t know how that conversation would go. Something like,’Hey,Steve…your neighbor thinks you need to find better bands for her to listen to while she’s laying in bed trying to fall asleep. For the love of God, book some decent bands so she quits her bitchin’!”.

However the booking came about, I’m glad. I’d rather listen to a cover of “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes over poorly covered Southern Rock anthems and cliched versions of George Thoroughgood’s “Bad to the Bone ” anytime.

I have a few complaints to vent into the world

Last night I decided to be through with suppressing all the bad feelings and just let it all out. It’s amazing how cleansing and healing a good cry is.

Not that I feel myself entirely out of The Blues but the release of emotions helped.

I feel like I’ve lost the last entire month of my life. As someone who sees time on earth as being valuable, that makes me unbelievably sad.