Eighteen days.  That’s how long it’s been since I’ve had a cigarette.  And I don’t *really* miss it, but I do.  I miss having something to do all the time.  My adhd goes into overdrive at this point in the year, so it was always nice to have that vice to lean on.  But since I love, ya know–breathing, I guess it’ll be ok.  Chantix works! No, they don’t pay me.  It works, but it’s not for the weak at heart.  I definitely notice a change in my BS tolerance. I have an even shorter fuse and tend to always be hangry, but really I’m just annoyed by every single thing for no reason whatsoever. Meanwhile I try to make up for it by being extra nice to my kiddos.  I wonder in future years how they will remember their mother during the holidays…..I feel like we do enough stuff with them that they will have good memories of holiday seasons.   There are a few times I have pulled aside my 9DS* to the side to remind both him and myself that the holidays are only here once a year, so even if we want to be somewhere else(in his case, glued to FNAF on the computer), we still have to participate.  Like, BE here, dude.  Yeah, I sounded like a stoned surfer, but that did get him to participate in some holiday activities.  Meanwhile, I still have boxes everywhere, nothing is wrapped, and I miss the days when Christmas went up on Nov1.  I’m a Boxing Day baby, so I love the holidays, and I have a LOT of holiday stuff.  Now that I’m in purge mode, it’s really making me look at all my holiday stuff and kind of  consolidate it. Or at least catalog it so I have a better idea of what is what—some of that stuff I’ve been carting around since I left home at 17.  For real.

I started kind of working on my closet and immediately tossed ALL my spanx and shit like that.  Who knew that would be so liberating?  Yes, part of me was internally crying over all that money wasted, but wtf, I never wear them.  If I’m being 100% honest, I never want a job that would require me to dress that way,  so OUT it goes.  I threw out bathing suits that don’t fit anymore,  and bras that make my back hurt.  I wish I could say I donated a bunch of stuff, but the truth is, it all just looked old and ragged and needed to be gone.  I threw out a sweater that I purchased in 2000.  Yes, I had a sweater that is as old as my niece and I STILL WORE IT once or twice a winter.  And every time I wore it, I’d think that I need to get rid of it because it’s not very flattering, but the by the time it was washed, folded and  back in my closet I’d forget that and just think how “grown up and responsible looking” this stupid black cardigan was.  That’s the problem for me sometimes—I keep things because that’s what people my age are “supposed to” wear/see/do/whatever.   But those items just sit in my closet, making me feel guilty about all my ridiculous colorful clothing choices…quietly mocking me for thinking I can pass as a grownup when we all know very well that I am not.  It’s ok that I’m not–and I don’t think I will ever really consider myself a grownup.  Not even when my hair is gray and my kids have kids and I REALLY sound like my mother.

I’m a “bitter-ender”–it’s what I called the kiddos when they would have a meltdown at the end of a play-date.  My little bitter-enders.  But they get it from me, and it’s not always the best quality to have.   As I continue the Great Purge, I can see that my bitter-enderness means I hang on to every thing longer than I should.  I will use my mother’s fancy crystal bowls to store my makeup(cuz why save it for a special day!), but I can’t get rid of headband until the elastic physically fails me.  I do it with relationships as well–keeping negative people in my life out of some misguided sense of loyalty to that person. Rather than just thanking the universe for the friendship/etc and letting the person go I’ll hold on until the bitter end.   I have gotten better at it over time,  but I still have a hard time letting go even when it’s crystal clear that it’s a relationship that serves nothing and no one–even when it’s a relationship that has become toxic for ME, I still hang on for them.  Apparently it’s a Capricorn thing. I don’t know.

Meh.  18 days.  YAY, but so grumpy.  Perhaps another viewing of Venom will help.

*9DS–nine year old darling son.  DS–Darling Son/DD–Darling daughter/DP–Darling partner