There are times in my life where I get frustrated - no big deal, afterall, we all get a lil' frustrated every now and again, right?
What helps my moments to stand out are the fact that, well, its happening to me. Selfish? Perhaps.
Where am I going with this you ask...or you don't ask?! I'll tell you.
Today, or technically, yesterday, I got it in me to flip around my bedroom set in my "huge room". As things currently stand, I've no space. The furniture is simply too large for the room and there's certainly nothing masterful about this Master Bedroom that the builder set forth in his fucked up sketch he called "building plan".
Anyways, up until a few hours ago, I was only able to fit my bed and two night tables - the dresser and armoire had to be placed strategically in shite places in the rest of the condo - tonight, I've managed to fir the dresser in (rather nicely) - the bed faces a new direction - North -and the LCD TV is awkwardly positioned (temporarily) on the dresser and I've had to sacrifice the convenience of having "side night tables" for simply "night tables, which are located within the confines of the bedroom". The armoire, however, remains apart from its friends. Alone. Solitary. At war with itself - or maybe not, seeing as how its bloody inanimate, nonetheless - there's less of my wardrobe in the corridors than there was yesterday!!!
This all however, came at a large price - y'see in order to facilitate the restructuring, I had to enlist the help of my dad. My father is fantastic...the problem is when we have to do manual labour of some sort together - he turns into this barking man, shouting at me if I fail to read his mind EXACTLY at the right time and place as would be required of me. My mother, ever so helpful enjoys standing around, pointing and "directing". Me, its my room, hell, its my OWN PLACE...do I get a say as to where I want things?? Fuck no.
These, my friends, are just examples, mere tips of icebergs, large floating icebergs of frustration, that I, Ellie Miron, could certainly do without...
Done...for now.
Peace.
EM
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1 comment:
ever heard of the book "don't sweat the small stuff"? Though I haven't read it, the title probably explains the pseudo-philosophical ramblings of the author, and might be the answer to some of your irritations.
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