Pity Party Monday

I am super grouchy today. It is not helping matters at all that it is Monday, nor that I had a minor meltdown at Boyfriend's place this morning over our lack of sleep last night and was unfairly flipping out while he was calm and sweet and reassuring. The more I think about it, he was truly a paragon of calm, comforting virtue while I was a freaking brat. Not that I meant to be a brat, or felt like I was being a brat at the time. After 3 hours and a cup of coffee, I'm starting to get some perspective on the morning.

When I woke up this morning, I was feeling frustrated, exhausted, stressed and emotional. I had a horrible headache, my head was all stuffy, and I just wanted to go back to my house and cry instead of going to work. I'm not talking an every day cry. I'm talking sobbing, hysterics, a heaving chest, and wailing into my pillow. That's what I felt like I needed. To let everything out. I didn't mean to take that out on him, and he is a better person than I am for being sweet to me when I was incapable of doing anything productive in the way of communicating my frustration.

Sleeping was an issue last night in part because I was anxious for Monday, and that always makes it hard to relax. I've gotten to the point where I can feel the dread start building in my chest around Sunday afternoon. Yesterday I had this moment where I thought to myself with relief that yesterday was Saturday and I had a whole other day before Monday, then was completely disappointed when I realized I was mistaken and it was already Sunday. Where did the weekend go, and how did it go so fast?

Raj and I spent Saturday and Sunday going through my clothes (him giving me a nod for keepers and a thumbs down for goodwill donatable rejects), packing my things into boxes, and watching basketball games and movies as we worked. He also cleaned my entire kitchen, for which I will be eternally grateful as I utterly despise doing dishes and my mom is coming on Wednesday so the dishes had to get done. He basically spared me 2 hours of agony. The weekend was actually good because we were productive, but there's still a lot of work to do, and only one more week in which to do it in. That's stressful.

Raj and I capped off the weekend by going back to his place last night to watch the Sopranos. We had sushi and mint chocolate chip ice cream while watching the second episode of the new season, which was pretty awesome by the way. No worries, I won't spoil any of the details here. After the Sopranos, we watched this new show on HBO about a polygamous family. I can't remember the name of the show, but I was equally revolted and fascinated while watching it. The man with the three wives is truly disgusting. He rotates between his three houses, each with a different wife, and has tons of sex with each wife each night. He pops Viagra to keep up with all the action.

The wives try to be good Mormon wives and to "conquer their feelings of jealousy" but they are all filled with jealousy and insecurity. The way they handle this is not by beating him to a bloody pulp, which they should and would be entirely entitled to do, but instead by fucking his brains out at every opportunity! In one 60 minute show, this despicable male got loud screaming sex in the morning with one wife, a quickie with another wife in the bedroom of the first wife, evening sex with the third wife and a blow job the next morning from the third wife for giving her "such a wonderful night." Are these women on fucking crack???

But I digress. Watching HBO with Raj was so much fun, and it was relaxing, but the minute I lay down in bed all of the feelings of dread about work started creeping over me. I was able to go to sleep but slept fitfully, in part because there were whacked temperature issues going on. The heater, which is one inch away from the edge of his bed, was blasting into my face and making me all dry and stuffy, while the rest of my body was freezing cold because he was monopolizing the too small comforter.

There were also space issues: I was smashed against the wall because he has a full-sized bed (in contrast to my Queen-sized bed), and he was sleeping towards the middle of the bed. I kept trying to curl over onto my side but couldn't do it because there was not enough space between Raj and the wall, and my knees kept jamming into the wall. I can not sleep when I'm cramped. I'm fanatic about this and I know it. It's one of my flaws or charming eccentricities; however you want to look at it. On top of that, Raj has pale white curtains that let in all manner of light, so between the street lights and the early morning sunlight, I was pretty much destroyed. I'm one of those people who need silent pitch blackness to sleep. I tried sleeping with my head under the covers, but I was simply no match for the heat, space, and light issues. It sucked.

I woke up this morning feeling like I had been repeatedly run over my 40 Mack trucks. After I had my shower and started to get dressed I realized that the shirt I had packed to wear today - the only shirt I had to wear this morning - was see through. This was almost as bad as last week when I realized I had forgotten all my make-up. I don't wear that much make-up, but I do feel pretty much naked without mascara and a touch of cover up. I mean come on. The lack of make-up I got away. No one appeared to notice at the office and I enjoyed feeling like I was camping for the day. But a see through tight black shirt through which I can see my bra? Pretending I'm camping is one thing; pretending I'm in a strip show is quite another. I had to grab an old ratty navy blue zip up hoodie with "Michigan" embroidered across the front in gold to wear over my see through slutty top before I left for work. So much for attempting to look professional.

Then I battled the morning commute carrying my heavy bags filled with work that I did not do this weekend because I was either packing or relaxing with Raj. Commuting via subway to work is a new thing for me and I am still not used to the chaotic throngs of people. I find them jarring and discordant. I thought things would get better when I reached my firm and got my coffee and breakfast. However, because I was running late I missed breakfast in my cafeteria and had to go with a fat-laden and nutritionally bereft coffee cake instead of my raisin bagel, 1 egg, and Swiss cheese breakfast sandwich.

When I finally reached my desk at 10:05 a.m. I realized that I had missed an 8:00 am conference call this morning. I wouldn't have felt so bad except that it was an 8:00 a.m. conference call to Nepal to get a supporting affidavit for one of my Tibetan asylum clients. The call was important, and it's not the easiest thing in the world to arrange calls to a tiny little village in Nepal. I feel morally bankrupt that with all the packing and the selfish-HBO watching I completely forgot about the conference call. What the hell is wrong with me? Feeling overwhelmed is no excuse, and it just feels selfish in comparison to my client's situation where her life and future are at stake in this case.

There is one more detail that makes this Monday suck: Today is Prue's first day of her last week at the firm. We started on the same day and went through a year of hell together. I know that I would have been far more miserable last year if I had not had her to share at least part of it with. She and her husband are moving back to Houston. I'm thrilled for her that she's leaving this place, and also that she's moving back to Houston because I think it's a great thing for her and her husband. But I'm going to be very sad to see her go. I also wish that I felt a bit closer to giving my two-weeks notice, but alas I'm not there yet.