I'm sure that's what it is. It has to be. There is no other reason for me to be feeling as depressed as I am, as overwhelmed as I am. I spent my morning making a chocolate strawberry truffle cake for game night tonight, but even that didn't do anything to cheer me up. I so want to call Craig and ask if I can get out of going, if he'll just take the kids and the cake, and I can curl up into a ball and cry this out of my system. I do that, you know. Like Holly Hunter did in "Broadcast News." Every once in a while, I'll just find a corner and cry for five minutes as hard as I can and then I feel marvelously better. Yes, I know, I'm putting undue stress on myself, I push myself too hard, yadda yadda yadda. Knowing and doing something about it are two entirely separate things.
I tried finding other means of escape this morning, too, but I think those might have made it worse actually. I've done 500 words of fanfic that has me angsting in huge ways because I'm convinced it sucks. It doesn't help that Alex is pushing very damn button I have today, getting us later out the door than I wanted, whining because Alicia is faster than he is, getting chocolate in his hair when he decided to literally lick the bowl we made the cake in. He got punished last night for going out the gate of the back yard and across the street to the neighbor's house without anybody knowing. I gave him and Alicia one of the lemon coconut cookies we had made that afternoo, ran upstairs to change loads of laundry, then eight minutes later when Craig gets home, I hear him shouting outside. *sigh*
Plus, we still haven't heard good news about Craig's Nan. And the weather turned cold and wet practically overnight. And fandom stuff is making my head explode. You know it's bad when you just want to delete your journal and walk away from the entire thing. So...yeah. Hormones suck.