Funky Town

I'm in a funk. A slump. A down cycle. A bad-hair-fat-ass-nothing-to-wear day.

Maybe it's my tummy--eating the usual amount of food makes me feel like throwing up, like I can feel the food just down my throat. But even if I feel like puking, I'm hungry. Argh. I rarely get tummy problems. I am blessed with a tummy of steel (heavily padded on the outside).

Or it could be the fact that it's mid-June and we haven't found a house to move to yet and we have to be out of here by the end of June.

Or it could be the fact that I am not that happy with my current money-generating gigs. In the perfect world, I would be sitting by my floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the sea (yes, the window is attached to a house), and I would be typing away on my high tech laptop (at this point, I'll settle for a laptop that has batteries, and does not need to be plugged in all the time), effortlessly creating brilliant articles and stories that the publishing houses are bidding for. But nooooo. I must live in this world. Where somehow I have morphed from a PR writer into an all around something who does almost everything except be the model in one of these events that I am merely supposed to write about and not produce. Of course if I were the model then we would be back in the perfect world, and that's beside the point.

Or it could be the fact that The Hubby (thank you Lord for him) has said that I can resign from my PR gig, but I am hesitant to do so because I know The Hubby will have to pick up the financial slack and as it is he is way too stressed with our finances and I don't want to add to that. And how selfish can I be wanting to resign in the middle of a financial crisis just because I'm unhappy. But I have been wanting to quit this PR gig for the past three years and I never could because I need the money.

Or it could be the fact that The Hubby won't tolerate the dogs inside the house anymore, and I can't bear to see them outside. So I am torn between finding them a new home where they will be loved and allowed in the house, and keeping them and making sure they stay outside. And if I do keep them, then we'd have to find a house that has ample space outside for them because NO WAY am I going to tie them up or keep them in cages. And that means it would be a more expensive house. And if I decide to find homes for them, then who will take them? The Boo isn't a problem; several people want him. As my friend Juddy Baby said, The Boo gets by on charm and good looks. It's Chloe who will be hard to place. She's a bigger dog, and she's a needy one--she needs lots of love and attention. And she sometimes gets into trouble because she loves rummaging through trash and just this morning she ate The Hubby's omelette right off the table. Evil dog. But she's very malambing and loyal. My sister in law said she'd take them both in, with The Boo inside the house and Chloe outside, but free to roam. I'm OK with that but I don't know if they can handle Chloe. She doesn't get wild, but she is needy, so she whines for attention and I know my brother doesn't like her too much. Both Chloe and Boo are gentle dogs, great with kids and very tolerant (kids can even ride on Chloe). If I do give them away, who's going to love me unconditionally with all-out devotion, no matter what?

Or it could be the fact that we are moving house and I have to pack all over again, and then unpack. I don't like packing and unpacking. It means that we have to sort through all this stuff that we've accumulated. The Hubby wants to get rid of stuff. What do we get rid of?

Or it could be the fact that at the moment I have no money. I can't even treat myself to McNuggets with honey mustard sauce and Twister Fries if I wanted to. Or Holy Kettle Corn. Or books or magazines. Or even new shampoo-even-when-the-current-bottle-is-still-half-full because this one is making my scalp itch.

Or it could be the fact that I know that I am having myself a pity party and I don't feel like calling it off (the invitations have been sent) and I know I should.

Or maybe it's the fact that 60% of the population won't even know the song "Funky Town". Argh. I am getting grumpy in my old age.