A Hotel Room and Intrusive Thoughts

First: it’s column day.

It’s time once again for our annual Valentine’s tradition. The girls and I have been getting a room at a local hotel each year for the past three years for a Valentine’s treat.

We order pizza. We don’t officially jump on the beds. But off the record, yeah. We totes jump on the beds. One time, we jump. And most importantly, we swim.

As a water child, I am nothing less than thrilled to have raised me a couple of water childrens.

We love the water.


That’s happening this weekend.

I wasn’t going to do it this year. Times are tight and with the new car I did not have an unnecessary hotel stay in the budget. But a grandma and a grandpa who seem committed to spoiling these two called to say they’d gotten a room for tonight. So.

Normally I turn down willful attempts to spoil. But the girls literally ask all year when it’s time to get our “apartment” again.

And these are the memories I’m going to need to capitalize on in the years to come.

So. Here we are.

It’s been a weird week.

I have the loudest, most obnoxious internal critic and she never, ever shuts her big stupid mouth. The only way I function at all is that I have learned to ignore her for the most part. But sometimes, she just gets so damn loud and intrusive.

She’s been particularly demanding recently. Mostly what I do is just mentally list all of the evidence that she’s full of shit. And if there isn’t enough compelling evidence to suggest that she’s wrong, I do what I can to logically prove to myself that yes, she’s right, but it doesn’t matter.

It hasn’t been working.

I don’t know. Sometimes I think I should take the Psych up on his offer of anxiolytics. But they’re not a solution. They’re not fixing anything. They’re an opiate for an intangible pain. I’d rather figure out how to stop the pain itself.

But damn it would be nice to not have to work so hard all the damn time to just feel okay.

Brains are stupid. I wish I’d been born a reptile. Or a goldfish.

Ooh, or Dory! I’d love to just forget everything every ten minutes.


So great.

Dory, you lucky bitch.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s