I keep feeling like I want something, like I'm craving something in fact, and so I keep finding myself standing in front of the refrigerator or the pantry, peering inside at the clutter of boxes and bottles and cans and jars of nothing that sounds particularly good at the moment.

Usually when I have these restless cravings that refuse to be satisfied by anything we actually have here in the apartment, I at least have some idea of what it is that I DO want. A Cadbury Cream Egg (or two.) A Peppermint Patty. A sandwich from Portillo's or a burrito bol from Chipotle. Sometimes (ok, often times) I allow the cravings to win, and off I go out the door, braless and in the same clothes I slept in, to the 7-11 or a fast food place in hot pursuit of a little instant gratification. Other times I ignore the cravings and walk around for days with this restless feeling knocking around at the back of my brain like an aggravating itch that just won't go away.

Lately I've been giving in to the cravings a lot. I've wanted sugar and salt and fat and I've had them, by the shovelful. I haven't been able to muster up the ambition to cook anything, so I've been rotating through the days a don't-give-a-shit menu of grilled cheese sandwiches, sloppy joes, fish sticks and frozen pizza. I couldn't even tell you the last time a vegetable touched my palate, unless you want to count tomato soup, or ketchup.

I'm actually not very hungry these days, but unfortunately that's never stopped me from eating. Food is my drug of choice. I eat to soothe myself when I'm anxious or stressed. I eat when I'm tired to fuel myself so I can keep on keeping on. I eat when I'm bored... nothing to do? Might as well stimulate the old taste buds again! I eat when I'm feeling nauseous... it almost always makes me feel better. I eat when I'm feeling depressed, to treat myself. And I eat when I'm happy, as a means of celebrating.

I will eat until I'm stuffed, uncomfortable even. It is my brain that is calling for more, rarely my stomach. I can deal with actual physical hunger pretty well. I don't always choose to ignore it, but if I want to I can. It's the brain hunger I can't seem to ignore.

I've been feeding my face all day today, I'm plenty full and I can't think of a single food item that sounds even vaguely good right now. And yet all day there has been a nagging itch of a craving in the back of my brain, of needing a little something to soothe me, to perk me up, to make me feel ok again. And even though I go to the kitchen out of habit, for once I'm not finding anything out there that even remotely begins to seem like something I might want.

What I really want is for my husband to be happy again... for both of us to not feel so stinking depressed and anxious. It scares me to feel our relationship slowly sliding back into the depression-induced crapper it was in for most of 2002. It seems like we just crawled out of that horrible place, had a few short months of feeling happy and hopeful, but now with the brand-new stress of our unemployment taking its toll, we each seem to be withdrawing back into our own private hells of anxiety which pretty much excludes anything resembling closeness or pleasure in each other's company or fun.

I want to know that we'll be able to pay our rent a month from now, and that nobody is coming to take our car away, and god forbid the TV cable gets cut off because how would we ever fall asleep, if not lulled into it by the inane crap we've both become fond of escaping into?

I want to not have to worry that we might actually get to the last-ditch point where we'll have to take the Prince's parents up on their suggestion that we move to Georgia where they have connections to people who could give us jobs... uprooting my kid and devastating her probably beyond repair in the process. I wish I felt confident that there was a lower-rent alternative here in this area that wouldn't require me to abandon my cats to strange new owners who might not love and abuse them in the manner to which they've become accustomed.

I want to log onto Hotjobs and find pages and pages of entry-level graphic arts jobs, so that I know I'm not wasting my time and going into a significant amount of debt only to wind up sitting behind somebody's fucking reception desk again. And as pathetic as it sounds, I want to at least be able to believe that if it comes down to that unpleasant option, I've at least got a shot at a decent clerical job instead of feeling like potential employers are immediately crossing me off their list when they see me in person, because who wants some fat slob sitting behind the reception desk representing their company's first impression on visitors?

I hate how shitty my life gets when stressful times are upon us, because it seems like stressful times are almost ALWAYS upon us. It bugs me that I can't stick to a diet or make myself exercise unless all the stars and planets are aligned just perfectly so I'm not feeling any kind of pressure; and I hate feeling unconfident about my ability to impress an employer, and I hate it that my marriage only seems to be able to be happy during "good times." It bothers me greatly that we don't seem to relate well to one another emotionally unless we are flush with money; and we don't seem to relate sexually unless we have somehow stumbled upon an elusive patch of time in which we are simultaneously kid-free, stress-free and freshly-showered. Usually the most we could manage even when we were working was two out of three... now, even though we unemployed bums have mornings alone while the kid is in school, well, we're unshowered, stressed-out, unemployed bums, with anything but hot monkey love on our minds. We're lucky if we remember to occassionally grunt and nod at each other from across the room.

Being depressed and stressed out is not the most motivating state of mind for me, and I can't seem to muster up a lot of enthusiasm for anything right now, even things I know will make a difference in the long run. I've made myself a little checklist of the bare minimum of things I need to do to get back on track with the basics of life like eating decently and grooming myself and accomplishing little bits of hobbies and projects and chores to keep me from sinking any deeper into the muck of despair than I've already sunk.

But it seems like such a long list, and I'm really tired of trying right now. On the other hand, it might help take my mind off of the fact that the only jobs I'm seeing advertised are horrible, hateful clerical/secretarial/reception-type jobs, many of which I'm not even qualified for. It kind of sucks when you're willing to cut your standards to the bone and then THEY don't want YOU.

Pthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhht. Is the sound my life is making at the moment.

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Previous - Next
Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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