Lately a series of mundane events that would've never bothered me before have triggered allergic reactions. Everything and everyone irritates me, I'm not sleeping well and no matter what I do, I just cannot seem to find my rhythm these days. I have my moments where a song on the radio can get me to sing along with it, but that lasts well, the length of the song. As soon as I exit the vehicle I'm just irritated again. There really isn't any reason for it.

Which led me to thinking...jeez, maybe it's the dreaded peri-menopause coming along? Maybe I am heading straight for the rollercoaster of nightsweats and an expanding waistline? Should I recognize this if that were the case? I can remember full well the ups and downs of pregnancy and if it feels anything like that - being subjected to my being annoyed is the least of the world's problems. Ha!

Seriously though, I've gotten into a funk and am guilty of wallowing in self-pity for a minute or two. Although I have no clue what I am so rueful about. I just am. I think I've read somewhere that depression starts this way. Now, what on earth do I have to be depressed about?? So that can't be it.

I'm staring at my blog, the cursor blinking relentlessly - reminding me to "Write already!" Well I am writing dammit, I'm just not really saying anything. Ha!

I was telling my son a funny story the other day. When I was four (yes, I do remember that far back) I was spending the night at my aunt's house with my mother. I was supposed to be sleeping on the couch while they sat and watched an old B&W Tarzan movie. I can't remember the name of it but it involved a huge spider that was about to eat Tarzan (or something like that). Me peaking under the blankets at the TV saw this and screamed at the top of my lungs, while jumping up and sending my shoes flying across the room toward the TV set. Obviously I scared the crap out of everyone in the room and was in big doo-doo for watching in the first place.

The point of this is, I'm sort of feeling like Tarzan there...being all swallowed up by the big, hairy spider named "Life". If kicking and screaming could drum up some excitement, I'd gladly do it every day! Alas, making noise doesn't seem to help any... slinking around in the background doesn't help either. I'm half-way through this mess and I still haven't quite figured out the right balance. It really is quite irritating....