I have been having a hard time coping with the tail-end of winter.
I suffer from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), as I am sure 99 percent of the residents of Utah do.
C'mon! It is February.
The snow needs to stop.
So, I haven't been in the greatest of moods, throw Valentines Day on top of that, and you have yourself a recipe for a complete melt-down...
Who in the H thought of that holiday?
It isn't good for anyone.
For those who do not have a significant other, it is "single awareness day."
And for those who DO have a significant other, it is "single-life contemplation day."
If there are a scant few of you who DID have a fantastic holiday, complete with sentimental gifts and heart-felt appreciation, well then I hate you, and I sincerely hope that your fancy chocolates go straight to your thighs.
I spent the whole day feeling sorry for myself.
I still feel sorry for myself.
I feel under-appreciated.
No, not under-appreciated, as "under" would indicate that at some point there was some appreciation.
I feel non-appreciated.
And I don't care if that is a real word or not.
So I am gathering laundry today, and slowing getting over "Love" day.
Mikayla is following me around, chatting non-stop.
I am deep in my own misery, and not really hearing her...
"...and mom, some of the kids in my class are getting new babies at their house, and their mom's have so big of tummies! I think they don't know about Weight Watchers."
I chuckled a little and asked her if she knew about Weight Watchers.
"Yeah, it's where you get skinny...like YOU!"
And folks, this is where I smile for the first time in two days, because it is the closest thing to a Valentines sentiment/compliment that I have gotten.
Then she continues...
"...but Weight Watchers didn't do anything for that butt of yours."