The Roof

The new roof is on and it looks very nice. I should take a picture, but I don’t guess it’s actually that exciting to anyone but me. Also, I feel like a complete chump because I was supposed to have coffee with John Lamb at three yesterday, which I put on my calendar as three today, so that when the roofers called at two thirty and said, “Shoot, we’re going to be done way before five. We’re fixing to finish up now,” I just jaunted home to pay them, with nary a care in the world.

So, that sucks.  And I’m obsessing over it, so I’m writing it here, even though it’s not that big a deal.

I’m just going to be honest with you. I often feel like the world’s biggest most awkward mess. Which, I guess you know, since you read this blog. And even though I can write here with no shame “I am the world’s biggest most awkward mess,” I still feel a lot of… I don’t know… guilt is not the right word.  If guilt and embarrassment had a baby, that’s the emotion I feel when I feel like I inflict my awkward mess on others.

And I feel like I did that to John. He assures me it’s fine. But that doesn’t matter. At this point, it’s not about rationality and the real world. It’s about that nagging bullshit you carry around.

So, thats’ that.

In other news, though I drink like once a month, I think I’m going to have to give it up, because there is no denying that beer gives me the shits. I remember hangovers. Remember those? You drank a lot, you wanted to die. You threw up. You went to bed. You threw up again. Then you had a raging hangover which could be cured by drinking a lot of water, napping, and eating greasy foods.

Those were the days.

Now, you have a few beers, you have a good time, you sober up, you go home, and you spend the night trying to come up with some way to just sleep on the toilet.  I mean, I think I could just about rig it, but I’d have to have a stable platform for the CPAP machine near the toilet and near a plug and that’s a little hard to pull off in a bathroom as small as ours.

So, yes, come to Tiny Cat Pants for the embarrassing revelations. Stay for the even more embarrassing revelations!

Good times, America. Good times.


4 thoughts on “The Roof

  1. Maybe just give up beer, not drinking. Something else might not have the same cruel digestive effects one you. I do not have problems with beer, but more than 2 glasses of wine and I feel real relief for some imaginary people that I live alone.

    Mistaken dates and times for appointments – even important ones – are NOT inflicting your mess on others. That’s just making a mistake, especially when you wrote it down and were looking forward to it. And you know I know about that awkward feeling of guilt and resentment about asking others’ to carry around my problems. I’m not just coddling you. This you can reschedule. And then when you do, just go and have coffee and whatever. You’ve apologized. Let him forgive this minor transgression. And, forgive yourself.

  2. It’s specific brands of beer of beer for me. Some perfectly respectable, locally brewed beers just charge right through me looking for daylight. Sigh….at least I know how to cure any pesky constipation problems.

    As to beating yourself up over missing an appointment-just stop listening to the nagging voice in your head and counter with the fact that people make mistakes. You wrote it down wrong this time-next time you won’t. There’s a book out there called Learned Optimism by Martin E.P. Seligman that’s very good at how to get more optimistic and when you shouldn’t. Okay, enough talk from me…..

  3. If you’re taking certain insulin sensitizers, that could do it. Beer bad. Booze bad. Wine okay, least for me.

    Ask me how I know. No, go ahead. Ask.

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