I survived The Precious’s birthday bash, and am still kicking.  I got up today and could hardly move, but the important thing to remember is I got up today.  The party was a roaring success.  We totally Budin’ed out the house.  We had Budin balloons, tablecloth, cups, plates, cupcakes, and cake.  The guest of honor walked into a Budin’ wonderland.  He was so excited there was no corralling him.  He looked at the birthday table with nothing short of absolute mesmerization.  At one point he was looking from his cake to his shoes, chanting “Budin’ cake…Budin’ shoes.  Budin’ Cake…Budin’ shoes” over and over.  When he finally was allowed to blow out his candles the smile on his face went from ear to ear.  It was definitely a great day.

But today the balloons are deflated, the carpet (which my non-vag daughter already vacumed once) is still covered in cake crumbs, and my joints feel like I personally lifted every child at his party.  Not just once, but in a full body press for several repetitions.  Who knew that having a two year old’s party could cause your body to collapse.  All I want now is a sunny day to lie in the pool.  Okay, maybe a sunny week would better serve, but I’ll take a day if that’s all there is.   I didn’t get in the pool yesterday.  Way too many skinny, female bodies were in there.  I might as well have though, since I was soaked long before the party was over.  However; I have reached a phase of life that has caused me to come up with a size guide for pool guests.  If you don’t have two numbers in the size of your (one piece, please) swimsuit you may not swim in my pool.  Obviously, this does not apply to The Precious and his pre-school buddies, but when their skinny mommies get in the pool with them…I don’t swim.

Pretty much I don’t swim anyway.  I will swim out to my raft then float for hours, moving only to flip over to the other side.  Well flip makes it sound easy and light…it is more of a grunt and moan movement that generally creates quite a wave in the pool.  I only do it once an hour.  Sometimes I fear that someone is going to try and throw me a sardine as I flop (yes, that aptly describes it) over.   I try not to bark, but the moaning with movement can be mistaken at times.

Lately the weather around here has been much like that in Seattle.  The sunshine is mostly of the liquid variety.  It rains daily it seems and I sometimes wonder if it will ever quit.  Gray and cloudy is not good for those of us suffering with depression.  Of course even if the sun was shining the economy is not good for those of us suffering with depression.  There is so much going on right now that contributes to my depression, and I love it when idiots say “just get over it.”  Oh what a good idea!  I wish I had thought of that!  I’ll just get over it!  I am missing a chemical that triggers my brain to produce the melatonin I need, but hey…I’ll just get over it!  Idiots!!!  Sometimes I just want to slap a bitch! 

July is coming though.  I am sure that I will be complaining about the sun in a few weeks.  Normally the sun keeps me from aching and I welcome it, but the warm weather hasn’t done squat for me yet.  I think the barometric pressure is to blame.   I’m no meteorologist, so what do I know.  I know the pain and ache of arthritis for one thing, and something has been triggering mine for quite a while now.  It makes me bitchy.  Can you tell?  Maybe I should just get over it.  (insert super angry expression here)  I am currently so cranky that I am struggling to be nice just so people won’t know the kind of pain I’m in.  Seriously, no one wants to hear you bitch about your aches and pains.  That’s why I have this blog…so I can bitch to you people and you can either read it or not…Your call.  So if you are still reading, have a great ‘effing day and enjoy the liquid sunshine…m’er f’ers.