Mother Teresa does not live here

Yesterday, I felt sad. No special reason. Nothing bad happened. Nobody did anything in particular. I just felt sad. There will be days like that and I'm trying to learn to accept them. I'm still searching for things to look forward to. (Yes, I know, dangling preposition. Go ahead, shoot me, Grammar Police.) Right now, here's the list: Coffee, chocolate, tennis and working out. That's all I've got.


Look, I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I wish things were different. My old, amazing life, as it was, is gone. I'd change it if I could. But that's not to be and so you have our full house with old people and perhaps young people who may not be happy with the current situation (that might be the real issue here) and all of us doing our best to make it all work.


I'm just a ridiculous people-pleaser who pleases nobody...or at least that's what it feels like. If people are happy, then everything feels better. But lately, nobody seems happy, least of all, me. And it's at times like these that I poke the proverbial sleeping bear. I walk around asking people if they're mad/sad/bored/itchy/unhappy. What a ridiculous waste of time. Why do I go around looking for trouble? I can't help myself.


We'd all be better off if I just minded my own business and stopped worrying about everyone else. Therein lies the problem: Everybody's business IS now my business. I'm a caretaker. How do you stop caring? And is it caring if you sometimes have the overwhelming urge to throw people off your deck? Yes, I admit it. I get angry about all of this. I'm human and very flawed. I get mad at people for situations that are NOT THEIR FAULT.

I think if Mom and Dad were in a better, younger place in their life, they'd be pissed off too. They'd MUCH rather be in their own house, their own place, with their own snacks and nobody questioning every freaking thing they do.

Me: Dad, why are you putting eye drops in the refrigerator?
Dad: Because they don't go in my eyes well and I think that will help.

Cut to me burying my face in my hands.

What's difficult is not trying to fix things. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. I keep having the insane urge to do something...anything, that will make everything better...even though "better" is a relative term.

It's clear that I have no idea what I'm doing. Maybe that's best or maybe that will be my defense the next time I lose it and start screaming.


No, Mother Teresa does not live here.