Okay, I’m miserable, a mess, a hot mess, for that matter. I feel unimportant, unwanted, unappreciated, and about every un-word you can find. It’s a serious funk, that not just spans to my time by myself in this apartment just waiting to hear the man’s voice again, but also to my work. I feel like I just don’t matter. And, there isn’t exactly a reason for this. It’s just… trying my darndest to cheer people up while I’m struggling just to get through this time until he comes back home and even when I express that I’m not feeling the hottest, it seems like people don’t care. Which is fine, just dandy, I don’t need someone to give me a lollipop to get me to feel better, but in the same sense it’s just a general feeling of giving so much but receiving so little. Being on the over-burner, I’d guess.
And I know what you’re thinking in regards to my work: You just got a raise, come on!! Yes, I know, obviously I must be well-liked, doing a good job, but now I’m pushing myself even harder to do better, especially in regards to retail, because now I have to push myself further then what I was at before. And, I kinda feel like people do the kick the dog syndrome at me where they take it out on me, are short with me, whatever, and if I’m ever not sunshine on a stick I seem to get a talking to. Which, mind you, can only be counted on one hand when that has happened but that’s enough for me.
Especially when someone seems to be throwing a tantrum about this, that, and that happened every 2 seconds…
I know it’s a good thing that I have at least 2 days as a break before I get murdered again on the weekend. Another good thing is my little guy that I’ve adopted to take care of and who has been keeping me occupied with feeding him and stuff. Meet LL (aka little league) the caterpillar:
He’s the last caterpillar that seems to be healthy, very hungry, and that I got from over where my folks live. The man is so cute, he keeps on asking me updates on ‘Junior’ as he likes to call him and telling me to take pictures of him too. I’m glad he understands that his fiancée is crazy and has been into insects since before she could talk. Seriously, I used to grab ants and put them in my plastic clear purse to carry around, which of course killed them but I didn’t know what I was doing back then. I was afraid he’d not want me to have any ‘bugs’ in the house and banish any caterpillars that I have to outside, but luckily, he lets me keep them in their little butterfly cage and doesn’t seem to mind it. Actually, it’s given him ammunition to tease me and he calls me an OM (which stands for Overprotective Mother). Even if I do take care of the caterpillars well, there still was 3 that I took in who died so I’m hoping this last little guy will make it.
Anyways, I know that I matter, but right now, I just don’t feel it.