Unexplained Crying

Second day in a row that I'm crying for no apparent reason. Could it be:

1. Vancouver is gripped by a heat wave. It's expected to reach 92 degrees today. This may not sound so bad, but our tiny house has no AC and one good fan. Yesterday I tried to sleep on the couch with the TV and lights on while The Artist worked until 12:30. Then he was ready to move the fan to the bedroom so we could sleep.

2. Our aforementioned tiny house has ants. Horrible tiny, Odorous House Ants. They're so clever, they've finally learned to get into the fridge. Which means our only safe haven for peanut butter, sugar and cereal is no longer safe. 950 square feet is not enough for 4 people, an art career and a b'zillion bugs. Exterminator you suggest? The Artist is chemically sensitive and refuses to let anything be sprayed in the house. It's a surprise I get away with Formula 409.

3. I have a pile of unpaid bills and a list of out-of-the-ordinary things we need. Such as $130 for the pets to get proper flea medication before the house is invaded with a second type of pest. I just don't know how we're going to catch up and school supplies and school clothes are just around the corner. Then birthdays for everyone. Then Christmas. Shit, I'm already worried about Christmas.

4. I'm heavier than I've ever been in my life. Nearly two years ago I was the token fat bridesmaid at my friend's wedding. How can I be even fatter now? My wardrobe has shrunk to a few pairs of pants and some logo-ed shirts for work. Even if I had the money (see #3), I wouldn't want to buy a bunch of fat girl clothes. Being fat in this heat makes me extra crabby.

5. The Artist leaves for Kansas tomorrow. He's going to help one of his best friends move to Vancouver. I have a bad feeling about it. I'm going to miss him. I'm also looking forward to nearly a week of vacation from his constant demands and this makes me feel a little guilty. But it also means that the kids will spend the weekdays at home alone, which worries me.

6. I still don't have friends. I don't know anyone on the West Coast who I can talk to about my problems. I've gained a lot of aquaintances recently. I've got a favorite bartender, a talented hair dresser, a friendly ex-boss. But when I need to break down in tears, I only have The Artist--and sometimes he's part of the issue.

7. I lack motivation. I don't pay my bills on time even when I have money. I'm not getting my book written. I haven't finished beading the art project I'm wearing to my gallery opening next week. My bathroom sink is scuzzy. I need to pull together an Annual Report, a brochure, two newsletters and a variety of small printing projects at work. Instead, I take time today to finally update my blog. Nice.

Life doesn't feel so good. When is my Best Year Ever?