I’ve been in a terrible mood lately. Everything is irritating, including my irritability. My irritability irritates me.
We’re moving next week, which I guess is exciting (I tell myself, “You’re supposed to feel excited. That’s the emotion to aim for”), but it’s so much effort. The packing and the moving part is fine, we’ve done that so many times I reckon we’d easily make round two – at least – of tryouts if they ever decided to put together an Australian Olympic moving team. The part that sucks is the thought of the pre-move cleaning at the new house and the post-move cleaning of the old one, and the switching of the electricity and gas and internet to the new address, and the millions of phone calls and the being on hold, and the knowledge that inevitably something will go wrong, probably with our internet, and it probably won’t be resolved before my next class starts up, and I’ll probably have to go somewhere else to study. And probably the backyard won’t solve all of our problems, and probably the blue walls will make us want to poke our eyeballs out soon after we move in. (I’m probably focussing a little too hard on the [potential] negatives.)
Mo’s being a jerk a lot of the time. He’s tired, he’s getting used to school, blah blah blah, and to cope with it all he’s being a jerk. It seems his aim is to act as horribly as possible to test whether we’ll still love him at the end of his horribleness. The test is very difficult to pass without losing it, and all the “I hear you, my beautiful child, whom I’ll love always no matter what”ing leaves me feeling completely destroyed. This afternoon he told me he loves Daddy and he loves Hazel, but he doesn’t love me. This was because I didn’t know what time Alan would be getting home, which Mo was convinced was a fun game I’d come up with purely to infuriate him. I feel like I should be inviting child-free people over to our house to make them feel good about their decisions/warn them about what the future could look like. It feels morally wrong to hide this from the world.
To recover from being screamed at by my
demon child tonight, I went to see
Zoolander 2. It was crap. It was the crappest pile of crap. If there was a
competition to find the crappest movie of all time in the history of the
universe, this movie would win it. Its crapness is made even more staggering by
the fact that it features at least 6 people (who I can remember off the top of
my head) who’ve made me laugh out loud in other stuff they’ve done – the fact
that their comedic powers combined produced such a crappy crap-pile is nothing short of mind-blowing. I felt embarrassed for the
actors/cameos while watching it, and seriously considered leaving the cinema,
except that I couldn’t quite let go of the hope that it would eventually redeem
itself. I give the movie 1 out of 100, and that’s only because Penelope Cruz is
gorgeous and I could happily stare at her face for hours. I feel it’s my duty to warn the world about Zoolander 2, too.