One Should Never Read One's Own Diary

I'm a bit Marvin today. Woe is me and all that.

I was trying to think why I would be a little more depressed today as opposed to any other day, and I think I've found it.

In rearranging furniture for Blueberry to move in, I located my old diary. I believe I started it in 1999. So I thought I would peruse it to see exactly where I've been and what progress I've made.

Let me give you a bit of advice. If you find an old diary or the chance to read over some old blog entries...don't. You'll either become depressed because you haven't accomplished as much as you thought you would, or yearn for the good old days. Diaries are meant to be read by other people. Not you. Don't do it.

So on top of that, I'm walking to work today, head down, angst ridden facial features, when I come to the realization that I am my most difficult foe.

I am constantly struggling with myself. Telling myself positive affirmations, yet negative put-downs at the same time. Let me give you an example of a little internal dialogue I had with myself this morning:

Me: "I can't believe I weigh this much. My diary journals never showed me this big. This sucks!"
Me: "Stop worrying about it. You're dieting and starting to walk. Look! You're walking right now, and that's the important thing."
Me: "But I feel like crap. Hubby just constantly aggravates me."
Me: "Yes, but is he aggravating you, or just aggravating TO you? Perhaps you need to take a more positive outlook on life."
Me: "I know I've been so fuckin negative lately. What's wrong with me? Why am I so fucking critical of everyone and everything?"

I'm just being truthful with myself. This is how bad I've gotten: Blueberry offered to take me home yesterday. Which was a lovely offer and I took her up on it. Usually when going home I take the same route, and usually force everyone else to take the same route, because it's the fastest. (That's my life right now. No wasting time. Rush, rush, rush.) So she's takes another route. Now listen (or read, unless you're reading aloud to yourself, then go ahead and listen), I have nowhere to go but home. No pressing appointments. Not even any plans once I get home. But mentally there was a WWF wrestling match between my logical self and my habitual self:

Me: "Tell her, tell her, tell her...go the other way. We'll waste too much time going this way!"
Me: "Don't be ridiculous. You are so freakin controlling. Just sit back and relax and enjoy the fact that someone else is driving."
Me: "But this isn't the way we go! We'll lose precious time!"
Me: "Okay first of all, what time will we lose? Like 5 minutes? And what were you going to do with that precious time anyway? Bake a cake?"
Me: "You gotta point. What's wrong with me? This is still making me antsy."

My husband always calls and tells me I'm married to a freak. I always tell him he's just a dork. Little does he know...