February 21, 2011


Dear Kurt,

I am a wreck.

I literally spent almost the entirety of the last four days crying.

And I never cry. Sometimes I even try to cry but I can't. But not lately.

I blame about 20% of that on it being "that time of month."

I blame another 30% of the freakin' weather. If I swore, then I would be cursing Idaho all day, every day.

I blame another 10% on you. That's right.... you! I'm a girl, I can do that.

I blame another 20% on what my friend Natalie informed me of and I like to call "the Idaho/Utah theory" which explains why people around these parts don't make friends with each other like they do in places like California (where we both lived for a while and now we are both here so we can consider ourselves experts). Basically this is the Reader's Digest version of the theory: people don't make lots of friends because they have their family. They hang out with their families all the time, therefore, no need for many friends. Like "hang-out" friends. Not everyone around here is like this but I would venture to say about a good 90% is.

And I blame the last 20% on me. I let myself get in this funk and I let myself try to cry/sleep it off. Which didn't work.

Doesn't Life know that I need a break? No. It doesn't. It keeps moving along, kicking my while I'm down when it gets the urge.

Last night I crawled into bed around 7 pm and after throwing myself a nice little pity-party, to which I invited no one, I slept till Brooklyn woke up at 10 am.

I dreamt of warmer weather and friendly get togethers and houses that cleaned themselves.

I need some help.

The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right? Well, I have a problem. I admit it, but I don't know if I can muster enough energy and caring to do anything about it. Sleeping sounds so much easier.

Life seemed so much simpler just a short time ago. Can't I go back?

Help me go back.

Help me get out of my "poor me" funk.

And while you're at it, can you help the snow melt and leave for good?

Maybe some sort of change in our lives is needed.

Sincerely, Your Sad, Pathetic Wife