Grr.

I keep trying to find a way to express the crappy way I've been feeling the past week. It all keeps coming out sounding much whinier than I really feel, though.

I go from "poor me" to pissed off in .8 nanoseconds. I get sad because my husband has to "make an effort" to get aroused. Then I get pissed off because I think, "He says he'd probably maim, if not kill, any man I had an affair with. Why? Isn't that like hiring a plumber to do some unpleasant job you don't like to do yourself?"

Not that I'm contemplating screwing around on Corey. Yuck. But, really, I'm surprised he hasn't thought of it himself.

I think of these things that I would like to do. Become a physician's assistant. Have a horse. Be an EMT. Join a rock band. You, whatever. Little dreams. Things that I could either do successfully or find out on my own are not reasonable or even not necessarily what I want. Except I never even get that far. I can do whatever I want, it seems, as long as no other person in my household is affected OR, as long as it doesn't directly affect my husband. And I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of feeling worthless.

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For the record: Perhaps it is true (though I doubt it) that if I thought like him, our kids would starve, but at least he'd know where they were.

the last trail...the next path