Monday, December 20, 2010
Um, Not so Happy
Okay, last week I talked a good talk about happiness. But today? Not so happy.
My old cat is waking up at 3 a.m. to go outside - he won't use the litter box for certain of his duties - and he's deaf, so his meow sounds like someone getting beaten. This morning, in addition to wanting to go out at that ungodly hour, he woke us up by heaving on the floor. AND when I got up, I noticed something wet and shiny and realized that one of the cats had also peed. Pee that I had walked through in my boiled wool slippers. That can't be "washed, dried, dry cleaned" but instead should be "wiped with a damp cloth". I don't think cat pee responds to damp cloths.
On a week like this, when I wake up at 3 a.m., the list of things I need to do starts scrolling through my head: buy presents, wrap presents, mail packages, clean up for two gatherings, grocery store, end of year at work, etc etc. Once I'm through with my list, I start on my husband's. It was with those lists in mind that I walked sleepily into the kitchen and began complaining. Now after a while, you'd think my man would get it: I'm over the top with imagined stress, he's trying to eat his oatmeal, why doesn't he just say, "Anything I can do to help?" But no, he has to start in with questions about why I plan all this stuff (Christmas with family? Presents? Grocery shopping and laundry? End of the year at the office? HELLOOOOOOOOOO? I don't plan this time of year; it happens).
Okay. So here I am. Monday morning of a week that will be busy and emotional. A week that others will be stressed out too. A week that we've made into a nightmare. WWMD (what will Mamie do) if I want to achieve happiness? I can remember that it'll all be over this time next week. I can revel in the time with my children and my family. I can think about my dad, remembering the time we went to see South Pacific or the time he sat quietly on my sofa with the old cat on his lap. I can make a list and check things off. I can cut my husband some slack, knowing that in the end he'll help with everything. I can count on my girls to do a few things. I write down my thoughts for you to see. I play a couple of rounds of Bubbletown. I breathe and get to work.