Very Bad Things

I did what I do, and spent most of the day crying.  Well, crying and then getting better, and then bursting into tears when anyone would ask me anything.  Particularly, "Are you OK?"  Tears.  I can't fucking help it.  It is definitely on the top of my 'things I would  change about myself if I could' list.  I cry.  I am a cryer.  When I'm sad.  Pissed.  Angry.  And occasionally, happy.  

Today, like most, it's just me throwing a pity party as usual.  I found myself really frustrated with the hubby last night, and filter in the frustration from his mom, and I bounced back and forth between wanting to call in sick to pack up my stuff to leave or unbuckle my seat belt and drive the wrong direction on the interstate.  I say it, but I'm not sure if I mean it.

For the past few months, I have felt like Cameron Diaz's character at the end of Very Bad Things.  She wanted her perfect wedding, and despite what was going on around her, she forced it, and ended up with two disabled men to care for and some crazy kids.  She runs around the house frustrated trying to clean, until the flops down, and cries.  

I want to do that.  Actually, I already do that sometimes.  And it's over the most trivial things.  Like, where are all my spoons?  My grandmother gave me two sets of Oneida silverware and I have like two spoons left out of sixteen.  Where are they going?  Why wont they come back?  Will the forks be next?