I’m having a moody Monday, you guys. You too? Well come on in and commiserate with me. We’ve had a lot of rain lately. Like, a LOT. I live in Florida, and in addition to the soul-squashing humidity and year round mosquitos, we get a lot of rain. We just went through a period where we had a lot of wildfires, so we did need the rain. But fuck me, I’m so sick of not being able to do a damn thing. In these final weeks of summer we’ve found ourselves stuck inside a lot, and the usual 500 question threshold is getting met by 10 am.
So apparently Tuesday is our day! We’ll get a much needed serotonin boost so we don’t feel like hurling ourselves off a bridge when our kids ask for a snack literally 5 minutes after you threw away the lunch that they didn’t eat. Then it’s back to gloom and rain for the foreseeable future.
Gray Days & Depression
Depression and I are old pals. When we have days like this, I struggle.
The kids are bored. I try desperately to sit and work but because “there’s literally nothing to doooooo” and the smallest child apparently has a tapeworm. I can’t concentrate on anything. I hear “can I have a snack?” so fucking much in one day that it’s led me to nickname this particular child Wormy. These are the days I’m mom’ed to death the most. Ask me how long it took me to finish this post.
Dogs & Rain
And then there are the dogs.
I see you there, nodding and smirking. Shout out to all my fellow fur parents. It starts at about 5:30 to 6 am with a soft little woof from the big girl (my oldest Corso) at the gate outside my bedroom. Behind her the chorus of whines rises to wrist-slashing levels while I fumble around for pants. Fearful that my resident crate-pisser will unleash a tidal wave in her crate, I usually end up saying “fuck it” and marching out pantsless. I don’t give a shit if the neighbor in the two-story gets an eyeful. These fuckers need to get outside.
I open the door only for several giant horse-dogs to skid to a stop right into the backs of my knees. Silly me, I thought everyone was just splitting down the middle because your bladders were all about to burst. The ones unlucky enough to have actually crossed the threshold of the door scramble like a first-timer on ice skates to do an about-face. Nails are digging into my bare feet, F bombs waft outing the neighborhood and everything goes white for a few seconds.
Why you ask? Because it’s acid rain and it will melt the skin right the fuck off their bones and they will die. As a result the outdoors must be avoided at all costs. And when you have a house full of dogs that refuse to go outside, eventually someone is going to shit on my floor.
I guess you can say I’m a tad moody today. I’m gonna have to get up and do some jumping jacks or something; get those endorphins going. Typically I have to shut myself in the bedroom, crank some angry music and fit in a 30-minute workout to keep myself sane.
Do you deal with gloom-induced depression? Aside from alcohol, what do you find helps you on those days when you’re trapped inside with everyone?