Too Many Men On The Field; Uneccesary Roughness

Life, in recent weeks, has been that of a NFL football game: unfair, intense, and down-right dirty. At this current moment I feel like Drew Bledsoe in 2000; getting my ass handed to me by a fourth string young quarterback from Michigan. Now, if you are from New England or a New England Patriots fan, you know exactly what I am speaking of; Tom freakin' Brady, the man, the myth, the legend. Yes, the man who managed to snag one of the hottest supermodels in the world, the 'Lord of the Rings', the unattainable, undeniable, sports Super Hero. For the rest of us? Ya, we are more like Drew; sitting on the sidelines watching the Super Hero crush what we had so carefully built. Let's be honest, does anyone even know what Drew is up to these days? If I were to guess? Sitting on the couch eating Cheetos and doughnuts drinking Miller High Life as Brady waltzes down the red carpet with Giselle. Life, my friends is that of a NFL football game: unfair, intense, and down right D-I-R-T-Y.

It started a few weeks ago my friends. I became the old school Drew from 2000. The moment I would recover from a Vince Wilfork kinda sack, I would get another one from Mankin. Sack after metaphorical sack, I realized that my time on the ground was starting to get a bit comfy. After all it would be easier to just park my sorry ass at home and give up. You know that vision I depicted in the previous paragraph? It doesn't seem SO bad. (Cheeto's ARE friggen good, and hey, let's not kind ourselves: we have all lived the high life...) Giving up, for many, is the answer. But I realized that a part of me, had a Tom Brady kind of drive. And when I tell you I got sacked? I GOT SACKED. Anything that you could physically imagine going wrong, DID.

I once read that people actually don't really listen to you when you are complaining about your life. I mean, we all have shitty ass days we wish would disappear forever. Why bore you with the particulars? But I can tell you from this standpoint, if I were a referee? Unnecessary Roughness and TOO MANY MEN ON THE FIELD.

Bitch Fit

Yesterday I posted a picture on Facebook that stated: "I do not have the time for the nervous breakdown I deserve." Of course I chuckled to myself and immediately thought of the irony of that statement. For the past month I have been running solely on Rockstar energy drinks and little to no sleep. Of course, this combination combined with the project of remodeling a home is testing my ability to keep calm and not flip the "F" out.

BUT last night, I hate to admit, I had my moment. I nearly lost it as I tried to put a pan that was CLEARLY too large for the top level of the dishwasher. Ladies, allow me to interrupt for a moment, to ask you this: Why is it always the LITTLEST thing that makes you BITCH and crash to the floor in tears? Because it truly is! As I struggled to get the damn pan in the dishwasher, I threw my hands up in the air and stated "I can feel it coming. I'm going to be a bitch in about two seconds. I can feel it. I am GOING TO BE A BITCH." Defeated, I walked out of the kitchen and took out the trash. Bless his heart, Chris said nothing, but Dru peered around the corner wide-eyed wondering what the hell just happened. I lost it, I had my moment. I then informed them if I didn't go to bed soon, I'd lose even more of my mother f'in marbles.

Part of the problem is this: I am weak and my immune system continually gives me the middle finger. AND we not only have the project of remodeling the new home, we have the project of moving out of the old apartment before Sunday of this week. What we had originally planned is no longer relevant. We have to be out and we need to move into the new house this weekend WITH the dust and the projects that await our enthusiastic hands....

I have a feeling, come November, I going to go hibernate. Like a bear. Wake me up when spring has sprung.

For those of you who have missed the pic in all its glory, here it is....