Sorry for myself

I was going to do a weekend recap for today’s post, but this weekend was pretty much uneventful and totally not worth talking about. It’s one of the few weekends that Clay and I didn’t have any commitments or social engagements, so we were pretty much lazy bums that got in A LOT of quality time with Netflix. I made Clayton watch the Wild Wonderful Whites of West Virginia and promised him that this documentary would change his life for the better. And I was totally right, it did.  
I didn’t get home from the Indy office and last-minute Christmas shopping until well after 9 p.m. on Friday night, and that kind of set the tone for the whole rest of the weekend. I think the most productive thing I did was make a new wreath to match this year’s red and green Christmas décor (yes, everything in my house has to match) and run 7 miles on Saturday. But even my 7-miler was sluggish and I just blame it on my body’s overall feeling of “I don’t want to do anything but sleep and eat Christmas cookies”.
But for what it’s worth, here’s my Christmas wreath:

I went to 5 different stores looking for mini red or green bulbs and had zero luck until I finally went back to Michael’s for the second time this weekend and found them buried behind some sparkly crap that no one was ever going to buy. The whole process was frustrating and I ended up putting way too much time and thought into making this darn wreath. The whole experience made me frustrated because I was really looking forward to this craft project, but all it did was turn out to be a giant headache. 
And then I got even more upset because I was wigging out over a stupid piece of fake garland shaped into a circle and felt embarrassed because clearly I don’t have any real problems.
Speaking of ...
I woke up feeling like quite the Debbie Downer this morning and it’s probably a safe bet to assume it has a lot to do with my impending “special lady time” that usually makes me an emotional basket case days in advance. However, I've been fighting some icky feelings for several weeks now, and I’m starting to think that it’s rooted in causes deeper than hormonal changes.
After church yesterday, Clay took me to McAllister’s for lunch and I poured my heart out to him over a bread bowl filled with Asiago Cheese Bisque (YUM!). For a 26 year-old who’s had a lot of blessings tossed her way, I sure do like to create my own problems. I think there’s a term for people like me … and I think that term is “dim-witted”.
It’s ridiculous the amount of time I spend worrying about things that don’t matter and how easily I let myself feel inadequate or inferior. I have a very low tolerance for people who have the power to change their situations but choose to grumble and mumble about it instead, and I must be the biggest hypocrite of all because I’ve been guilty of doing that for the last few years. And I’m mad at myself for not changing that behavior. If the things I fret and obsess over aren’t a big deal in the great scheme of things, I need to find a way to get over them … and fast!
In short, I’m feeling really sorry for myself because my face has literally exploded into a pimple-infested field of ickiness. As I mentioned in my “Winter ‘Ew’s” post last week, no facial cleanser or zit cream can cure the problem. I’ve been washing my face religiously in the morning, after workouts, and at night before bed, but nothing is working. Pimples keep coming back in full-force and they’re red, mean and nasty. For some reason, my skin’s new magic trick is to develop giant, painful zits under my chin and along my neck that are completely resistant to salicylic acid. They made their debut sometime late in October, and I’m afraid that they’re going to be sticking around until well into the spring.  It makes me feel like hiding. Christmas parties are coming up this weekend and I'm going to look like I had an allergic reaction to the holiday spirit.
Also, even though I really like my new job and am delighted to be back on my old stomping grounds, the fact of the matter is, I’m still the new kid. And thanks to switching jobs, changing schools, and moving several times throughout my life, I feel like I’ve had my fair share of being a “newbie”.  And it totally stinks.  In every situation, everyone has always been incredibly warm and welcoming, but it doesn’t change the fact that it still takes time to get acquainted with the already established cliques and groups in the company, school, or neighborhood--that's normal. It's an adjustment and sometimes I just get really impatient.
And how pathetic is this: The other day I was having an email conversation with a friend about something we’ve both recently experienced. Since we’re both kind of going through the same thing, I thought it would be a good opportunity to share something a little personal about myself that I haven’t had a chance to talk about with anyone else, especially with someone else who might completely understand how I’m feeling.  Feeling a little bit vulnerable, I hit “send” on the email and waited anxiously to see what my friend had to say.
She said nothing.
As in she just stopped emailing me.
And I felt stupid for the rest of the day.
That’s basically why I stopped divulging personal information to anyone other than my husband and family.
So those are my stupid, selfish problems that I inexcusably let bother me all weekend. Sick of reading about them? Good, because I am totally sick of talking about them. I know we can’t help what brings us down, but we can control how long we let it keep us down. I need to be a big girl and pull myself up by the boot straps and carry on (and might I mention, my old boots tore on Friday and I replaced them this weekend with a pair of adorable brown knee-high boots with a kitten heel!). Nothing is ever as bad as it seems and it could always, always be so much worse.


  1. My face is doing the exact same thing! My face must think it is 14 again! Can't I just have one day of a clear face?! I hope your face gets better!


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