Monday, March 19, 2012

Channeling Ice Cube

I'm about to get all gangsta on you.

Hold up.

I had a good day yesterday.  It started out pretty freaking terrible if I am being honest.  Saturday night ran into Sunday morning and was one of those endless nights with little sleep, where you spend more time running dialogues in your overactive mind than resting.

I know I'm not the only one that does my best thinking at 3am.

The morning started off just as the night ended, full of conflict and inner rage.

There's really and truly no way to ever know what someone else is going through unless you've been a mile in their shoes.  No one wants to wear my shoes right about now, that much I can promise.

Especially since my shoes have been stepped on lately by those who don't understand.  I can't fault them for their lack of understanding though, mostly because I keep my ugly realities bottled up inside and tucked away from the rest of the world.  So instead I take the criticism and the commentary and move on.  It is easier that way, even if it's just demoralizing to me.

I don't have it in me to explain myself to anyone else right now, and I honestly don't feel like I should have to.

So I don't.  And I won't.

I picked myself up and dusted myself off and declared yesterday that the day was not going to be lost.

We took the kids to the zoo.  We walked the entire perimeter of it, trying to avoid being downwind from the stinky animals when a gust of wind picked up.  We shared pretzels and took silly pictures and laughed at Aidan when he talked to the birds and they started talking back.
The seals like to be ridden.  Really.
Seriously, if you heard that flock of birds yapping angrily in the afternoon yesterday, it's because he stopped paying attention to them after a while.  It was pretty funny.  Who knew his second language was bird?

We stopped to get fried chicken on the way home, because any day that ends with fried chicken is, by definition, a good one.

After we ate, we bottled a batch of home brewed beer and started another one.  Proof that I am indeed Irish....I love beer so much that I now make it.
Ignore the messy kitchen behind us.
And the fact that I'm wearing sunglasses on my head indoors at night.

He's not Irish at all, but really, really,
really loves beer.
I didn't even have to use my AK.

I'd have to say it was a good day.

1 comment:

  1. It must have been something in the air Saturday night/Sunday morning. Rage is putting it nicely.

    Nothing an Ak47 and a hand grenade can't fix, I always say. ;)

    Good lookin' beer too. =)


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