Viva’s mood of choice these days is hateful. From the second I woke her up this morning (“Go away!” she said, scowling and kicking at me), she has been so fucking mean that I want to ship her off on the next boat to Anywhere But Here. When I dropped her off at school, I drove away as fast as possible. Get! Away! From the Mean, Mean, Kid! Since I am already exhausted due to sleep deprivation caused both by her and by living in a noisy neighborhood, my tolerance for her hatefulness is extremely low. I tried talking to her about why she is in a grumpy mood, and I tried to introduce to her the concept of “You can choose your mood,” but she was determined to be, well, bitchy. I feel beat down by the force of her meanness.
Moving on to other not so interesting news: three days ‘til my birthday. Absolutely nothing is happening. Sweet W had to cancel his vacation this week and is going to Texas on business to meet with two big-name directors (his first big client) on Saturday, which is when I would be having my real birthday celebrations. I have been too busy and too exhausted – why, yes, too beat down – to pull anything together anyway, so it’s no loss.
Okay, I know it’s not that bad. I have been reading all kinds of sociological stuff these days, for work and otherwise, about poverty and abuse and domestic violence, and I realize my concerns are petty.* But damn! I need a day off like you wouldn’t believe.
* And seriously, I’m going to pull all my findings into at least one coherent post someday. If you really start looking closely at this shit, you’ll drop down on your knees. It’s frightening and sad.
Updated to add: Sweet William just called. His flight leaves Friday at 6 pm. He returns Sunday afternoon. Happy birthday weekend to me! Don't forget, I'll be stuck with the hateful, hateful mean babyhead while Sweet W is having drinks with the beautiful people. And last night he told me some pretty hardcore gossip about the director he's meeting with (which involves an actress better known for her work in TV than in film), and I can't even tell anybody. Well, of course I'm going to throw poo at him.