I’m sure it will

Emotionally, I have been better than this. I’d write about it, but every time I’ve written about a mood like this it has passed and I feel foolish for taking it seriously. So here’s hoping that it’ll pass and no one will need to hear about it at all.

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My house is completely infested with spiders. Not scary spiders, or skittery spiders, or poisonous spiders, so it could be a lot worse. They are small leggy spiders that seem to have established a colony in the bowels of my gas fireplace a few years ago and, every spring and summer, they spread to all corners of the house and set up residency anew. (Which means that each winter so far I have had hope that this is over, and each summer my hopes are dashed. Fun.) Most of them reside in the living room, and a few times a week I come through with my paper towels and smash between 5 and 10 of them, as many as I can find, but they keep. coming. back.

The thing is, we also have a summer ant problem, one that has been varying in intensity since we moved in here. The ants happen to come into the house near the same areas that the spiders scratch out their existence. So part of me wants to throw up my hands and let the one problem handle the other. Not that I would stop killing as many spiders as I could, but I could stop worrying about the fact that there always seem to be more no matter what I do.

(Yes, I have tried roasting their little colony by turning on the fireplace. Didn’t work.)

(And apparently there isn’t much pest control people can do in my situation.)

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As if the leg problem (which is getting better by the day; I have high hopes that I didn’t tear anything after all) wasn’t enough, I’m dealing with this odd sensation of discomfort in my teeth. Yesterday I was eating a fruit cup with little oat sprinkles, and every time I took a bite, my teeth felt…itchy. Like I needed to bite down and grind. It was inexplicable and not pleasant, and I know I sound a little crazy but I’m just recording the sensation, y’all. And the crowding in the bottom front row of teeth, which I’ve dealt with more or less with aplomb since I was a kid, is suddenly making this one tooth feel maddeningly uncomfortable, as if it needs flossing every second of every day. It’s also the tooth that gives me painful cold sores in the inside of my bottom lip pretty frequently, because it pokes out and rubs. So I’m wondering if I should just do a little door-slammin’ amateur surgery. Nah, just kidding, I wouldn’t do that. Probably.

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Today the Blue Angels are practicing over Annapolis for tomorrow’s air show to celebrate the Naval Academy commencement festivities. Some of the people in the office seem actually to be excited about this. I guess it’s just my jaded military-child attitude, but seriously? They’re just fast planes painted blue. Which I saw several dozen times during the airshows of my childhood. Most of my memories are being bored and hot and upset from the loud noises and wanting to go home. Kind of like now, except I’m cold rather than hot.

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I watched Kramer vs. Kramer last night, which has probably the most misleading DVD cover in the history of movies. It won Best Picture, along with Oscars for Meryl Streep and Dustin Hoffman. Definitely an actors’ movie, but the screenplay was decent too, even if the subject matter was both familiar and foreign to me. (I am definitely in the fighting-for-custody zone in my job, but I don’t know what it would be like to want to take care of a kid that badly.)

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It’ll pass, really. This whole thing – the desperation for bed, need for distraction, impotent fury at everything, dissatisfaction with everything everything – the whole business will pass, and I don’t need to say anything to anyone. I don’t need to deal with it or talk about it, because it’ll pass.