Bittersweet

*For the first time in foreverrrrrrrr* I had a good day! I did not get the things done that I had on my checklist, but I did get a ton of stuff done. I got tons of laundry done (we are still washing all the stuff in the house because of a lice incident), and I got a lot of it put away. There was a mountain of clean laundry on my bed and since my sheets got lost in the mountain of dirty laundry, I had just been piling clean clothes on my bed and sleeping on my couch. My back is still admonishing me for that. But all the laundry on my bed has been put away and I found my bedding and washed it. So finally, my bed is made and pretty, although I’m missing my king sized pillows still. I have one wimpy pillow. Oh well.

I cleaned up the wreck of a living room, ironed four shirts (I haven’t ironed in years, and that’s not an exaggeration), did some more laundry, and cleaned up my bedroom (which is where everything gets dumped when people show up last minute and I have to make my house look clean). Oh, and I cleaned out my closet by taking all the stuff I didn’t want and putting it in the garage to deal with later. I got a lot done!

My first attempt at getting over the fact that I didn’t finish everything

You might notice, however, that I did not get a blog post out yesterday, and I did not get any of my homework done. So it’s a little bittersweet. I got important stuff done and left important stuff undone. It was extremely hard to get over that last fact.

When my husband came home, I hadn’t packed the kids’ bags for a sleepover at the grandparents’ house, in fact, I couldn’t even find clothes for two out of my three kids (lice remember? everything had been bagged up and taken downstairs). In the process of cleaning, I made everything much worse so the place looked terrible and I was hoping to have a lot more done before hubby came home. He walked in the door and I cried. Bless him, he didn’t get frustrated with me. I told him I didn’t want to go to band practice tonight, and he was very gracious and didn’t make me feel guilty for canceling. He told me that instead of having the kids sleep over, he was just going to have Mamaw watch them for the few hours he was going to be gone tonight and then he would bring them home, meaning I didn’t have to find extra clothes to pack.

He got everyone out of the house and I got to be all by myself. I listened to music for quite a while, watched some Bob’s Burgers and then I decided I wanted my house to be cozy, so I picked up my cleaning from where I left off. He came home later with the kids and two Dr. Peppers (one for tonight and one for tomorrow) to find two of the rooms in our house very presentable.

Today, my hubby was my happy place. He took me there and I am so grateful for him and his patience. Even though he can’t always help me, he always tries. It’s why I love him. It’s why today turned out to be a good day.

Do you ever have issues celebrating your successes because you didn’t get things done exactly how you wanted? Can you get to a place where that doesn’t happen anymore? Tell me how you cope in the comments! I need advice!

Where Does the Name of my Blog Come From?

As part of my 31-day blog challenge, one of the challenges is to explain the name of my blog.

I am in love with reading. I thoroughly enjoy traveling through other worlds by reading amazing books, and even watching T.V. and movies. I feel a great kinship with so many characters, one of the strongest with Anne of Green Gables. She goes through so much as an orphan and she develops this way of coping with her situation by escaping through books and imagining friends. She has the ability to take her situation and completely change it in her mind so that she is in a whole different world that intrigues and delights her. It usually contains this dashing suitor and a tragic romance. This coping mechanism keeps her going when she deals with prejudice, abuse, and just horrible mistreatment and harassment from adults who should be caring for her.

When Anne finally catches a break, she is chosen to be sent to Prince Edward Island to fulfill a request for a little girl to adopt. On the island, she meets Matthew and Marilla (the people who requested a child) and they ask her for her name. She replies:

Could you please call me Cordelia?

She explains that she feels her name, Anne, is too plain. She thinks her name is ordinary and very boring. But if Matthew and Marilla could just call her Cordelia, she could imagine she was the person she wished she could be. She would be exciting and adventurous and beautiful. Of course, Marilla promptly tells her that this is nonsense and that Marilla will call her by her given name. Marilla doesn’t imagine. She lives in reality all the time.

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Anne Shirley is one of my favorite characters.

The thing is, I have spent so much time wishing I was someone else. If I could just change this, or if I could fix that, then I would be the perfect person I have always wanted to be. The name of my blog relates to that wish that I make in the “depths of despair” when things are too difficult and I am just disgusted with myself. I just want to be Cordelia. Perfect Cordelia.

My goal for this blog is to provide a place for people who want to be Cordelia. A place to relate to someone. I want to share my experiences from the depths of despair and how I work to get back to a happy place. I hope that my stories and help can inspire someone else to either move forward and keep trying or to get help so that they can do that.

I would really like to hear about some fictional characters that you relate with, from any form of media. Comment below and tell me what they mean to you.

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A Wad of Unbrushed Hair and My Bare Face

I woke up to my husband’s alarm going off, except he doesn’t hear it and sleeps right through it. I yell at him to wake him up and turn off the alarm. He hits snooze and goes back to sleep. This whole routine happens three more times and I am so over it. When we finally get up, it’s too late. We don’t have time for everyone to take a shower and still leave on time, so it ended up being my daughter who had to wait until this evening. I had no time to put on makeup of any kind. Which killed me.

What people actually think when they see me without makeup but they’re too nice to be that way. 

I hate the way I look without makeup. I. Hate. It. I am the ugliest person and you know what, no one is gonna convince me otherwise, because they’ve been trying for like at least 23ish years now. If it hasn’t sunk in by now, it’s not going to.

I had no time to clean up my boots that have been stored in the garage for the last three seasons. My husband tried, bless his heart, but there just wasn’t enough time. I wanted to wear one of my cute scarves this morning but all of them are still in the mass of laundry making its way through the laundry like molasses. I had to throw my hair up in a terrible bun. It sucks. Seriously, its a wad of unbrushed wet hair. 

I walked into church this morning and I did not want to talk to anyone, but I guess I really did look like crap because the first thing someone said to me when I walked in the front door was, “What’s wrong?”

I told them that nothing was wrong because I don’t want to tell people about my problems. I just want them all to shut up and leave me alone. And then I thought about how I don’t feel comfortable sharing anything super personal with any of these people at church, who are supposed to be my brothers and sisters. Not that they are mean people, it’s just that I don’t connect with anyone. There’s no one there that I look at and think, “I need to tell them my issues because I know they will make me feel understood.” No, they will give me all the cliches and tell me that everything will be alright and then go back to eating their donuts and coffee, and you know what? I don’t want that. I want someone to tell me how much my situation sucks and to complain about everything with me. I want a friend who literally feels the same way I do now and is upset about stuff too. We can feel better later. Right now, I want to bitch about stuff and no one at church is gonna do that with me.

Of course, everything for the church service was changed last minute and I didn’t check to see if everything had been confirmed so I made the wrong stuff for the show and it was all my fault. Everyone and their brother needed something from me before the service and I had to put on a smile and pretend I was happy to help them. The soundboard was completely messed up and the man who normally runs the sound has it in his head that all the levels and adjustments need to stay the same every single week because that’s how we keep from getting feedback. Guys, he wears a hearing aid. He can’t hear the feedback coming through the speakers. I was in a mood so I actually stood up for myself, when normally I would have just as-you-wished at him. I told him the stage changes constantly and so do the people on it, so you can’t write down the exact places you left the controls that one time everything sounded good and set them to that every week. We were getting feedback when all the levels were at the place they were “supposed to be”. We. need. to. check. them. every. week. and. adjust. So I guess my bad mood was a little productive because I wasn’t rude (miraculously) but I wouldn’t let him tell me I was wrong. 

I checked my blog to see what was up, and somehow I switched a finished and published post back to a draft with all my gifs now missing and my title photo gone as well. So I came home and redid that.

My poor hubby has been trying to help me this whole morning and he really was amazing. He found someone to break into the broken coke machine at the church and get me a Dr. Pepper so I was able to have some caffeine and take my meds, which helped. And we did see some friends at church that I do like to be around, but I don’t know them well enough to air out all my personal stuff. Still, it was nice to see them.

And here I sit listening to my favorite love songs and three grilled cheese sandwiches cut diagonally just the way I like it, made by my hunk of a hubby. It’s true, I was very down this morning. I was crying on the way to church, and I wished as hard as I could that I didn’t have to go. But I did get to genuinely worship a little bit, which made me feel Jesus with me. It helped. And things have calmed down now. No one has to see my gross face and I don’t have to be presentable to anyone. I don’t have to smile if I don’t want to. I don’t have to deal with any people I don’t want to. I can just exist as me. I love home.

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