Last week’s foul mood followed me into this week. Objectively, I could clearly see negative thought patterns – feeling overwhelmed, like my life doesn’t have room for fun anymore, feeling cynical. But I couldn’t seem to ignite a means to interrupt the pattern like I usually can.

My old ways of motivating myself, such as keeping my goals at the forefront of my mind, weren’t working because I felt like there was no time to do anything. I kept feeling like a mouse on a wheel: up early, work out, work all day and late into the evening. My only escape was sitting on the couch and eating dinner … but even that had become depressing, because the second I’d put the fork down, it would be time for bed.

And even if I did have an ounce of free time, I’m not sure what I would have done with it. The apartment needed some attention, but I didn’t feel like tidying it up anyway. I’d probably do nothing but sit around and mope and feel bad for leaving the apartment sloppy. Kind of like I did on Sunday when I laid on the couch and watched crappy movies while it poured rain outside.

On top of all this, Steve’s mood had been no better, and I think we were just kind bouncing bad vibes back off each other, with very little warmth or our usual team spirit. Steve mentioned this one night this week, and I think his acknowledging it set some good feelings into motion. We became more tender with each other again, and the mood began to lift, slowly. Steve started working out again, which provides a shot of endorphins for a nice boost, and so I think he’s been getting happier.

Finally, this morning, I broke the spell entirely.

I’m going to Sita’s house for a wine and jewelry party tonight, which means Steve is on his own. As I got ready to go to the gym this morning, it occurred to me that there’s something really nice I could do for him. I broke my routine, and I didn’t go to the gym. Instead, I stayed home and cleaned up the apartment like a maniac, if maniacs tended to clean apartments. Now Steve has a tidy, comfy apartment to come home to this evening. And I finally feel like I got something accomplished, outside of work, of course.

It’s funny how a neat apartment can offer such a lift, and how a messy place is such a big drag. I’m sure there’s a big bundle of reasons why we were in bad moods. Stress from work. The crappy weather and feeling trapped inside. Feeling unfulfilled and like we can’t get off the treadmill of life. And then one day you fall off and you die. So I can’t entirely place all the blame on a messy apartment.

But today there’s a spring in my step. I get to have the feeling of happiness that doing something nice for a loved one can provide. Now there’s a finite number of things we can do to make the apartment better (whereas before, it was a sea of chaos.)

I can see that it won’t be an issue to write a few thank you notes a day. Even better, I can finally see that it’s time to finish revising my book, and this weekend is going to provide a good opportunity to make some headway. I think I’ll ride the wave of this elevated frame of mind and see where it takes me.

Note to self:

Hey, Sisyphus!  Busting your ass in the gym every morning, and then lying in bed at night while you eat things like crackers spread with cream cheese, or a family size bag of Fritos with a tub of cheese dip is not the fastest way to a slimmer, leaner, trimmer you.

I hope when you get home tonight and remove the size 2 pants that you have absolutely no business wearing, you enjoy the red lines engraved on your tummy from your well-deserved pant tightness.

How about engaging in a Sisyphean task that's slightly more worthwhile tonight, like oh say, folding the laundry.

Now put down the Cheez Doodles. Thanks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the woman in her underwear in the gym locker room who invaded my personal space while you dried your hair for an inordinate amount of time before and after I toweled off and got dressed:

You had a lot of space over there, yet you crowded me into a corner with your thong and its contents.

Also, I had a hard workout, and you were blowing hot air from your hair dryer at me on account of your unnatural proximity, which caused me to continue to sweat while I was attempting to get dressed. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?

Once I thought I had escaped you and your infernal peach thong and black bra by fleeing to another part of the locker room, I was nothing short of alarmed when you followed me and popped up in the mirror right next to me.

Please. Just go stand over there. Thank you.

This weekend receives mixed reviews. Friday night, Steve and I met Sita for drinks, and that gets two-thumbs up. I felt like I hadn’t been out to socialize in ages, and so it was a bit like being shot out of a cannon under the big top as the start to the weekend.

Then Saturday, Heather and I had our Day of Fun, which started with pedicures, followed by a lunch of sangria and tapas and some half-hearted shopping in Chinatown – really just ducking into stores to get out of the way of the Caps fans who were pouring out of the arena following their victory over the Flyers.

We met the boys for dinner at Gordon Biersch, and then headed to the little birthday gathering that I’d been dreading. But it turned out fine. Steve’s friend was very, very, extremely and over-the-top nice to me. We had a nice chat, a good time, and all was well.

Sunday the mood was kind of low. The rain was awful, and I just wanted to lay around the apartment all day, which is very unlike me. But I think I just needed a day of rest to allow myself to unwind and to feel like I could let it all hang out for once. I didn’t work on my book at all, and did my best to avoid feeling guilty about it.

But speaking of the book …

One thing I need to do is to clear out The Outdoor Home office so that I can actually put my desk back out there and get some work done. We have an old bed frame sitting out there that needs to go to the trash. It doesn’t come apart, so we can’t dissemble it and stick it in a closet, and the mattress it belongs to is making me lose my mind, as it’s ten-years-old and still … STILL leaning against our living room wall. Honestly. What we’re doing with this thing, I just have no idea. When we do finally get an extra bedroom or two, they’re going to be used as an office and a kid’s bedroom, not a holding cell for an old mattress. A guest bedroom is not a reasonable use of space right now.

This morning I went to the gym and enjoyed watching my old trainer torture a new victim. She’d set up these plastic circles on the floor and was forcing a chubby, breathless middle-aged woman to hot-scotch. Yes. Hop-scotch. Oh, the indignity. I felt bad for her, but I also felt really glad that wasn’t me being publicly humiliated this time.

The weather outside is gorgeous, and I'm stuck inside. This situation isn't agreeing with me, especially after dealing with the non-stop rain of late and the 24-hour workdays. This morning I rode to work with the top down on my MINI convertible, so that's something. I love that stupid car.

I’ve been feeling really downbeat lately. Work is kicking my ass, and it’s not letting up anytime soon. Like ever. Well that’s not true, it’s just what it feels like right now. So I’m in a bit of a mood, and then I have tantrums, and then I regret half of what comes out of my mouth, and then when I’m not having a tantrum I’m feeling bad because I’m not happy-go-lucky and charming 100% of the time. As a perfectionist, I don’t tolerate my own shortcomings very well, and so as a result, I beat myself up when I’m not a freakin’ Stepford wife.

Tomorrow Heather and I are going to hang out and shop and get pedicures and then have drinks while the boys golf. Then we're all meeting up later for a little birthday celebration, which I'm actually dreading. It feels like another obligation at a time when I would much rather do my own thing, or just hang out with Steve.

The birthday thing is for this friend of Steve’s who irritates me. Actually, he has two friends that irritate me, and they are basically the same person personality-wise: loud, overbearing, embarrassing and obnoxious. Oh yeah, and neither of them are all that nice to me. At all.  As his friend, you'd think they'd be nicer to Steve's woman, but these are not civilized, courteous people. Hence the embarassing and obnoxious thing. So, no redeeming qualities there as far as I’m concerned. The funny thing is that these two friends hate each other, on account of their irritatingness.

How do you deal with it when your significant other has a friend you can't stand? Luckily this jackass that we have to see this weekend is currently in business school, so I'm not subjected to him as much right now. But I'm really not looking forward to a few years from now when he's out of school and has more free time and then ... just ugh.

I'm sure this is an incredibly common problem. There's no way you can seamlessly blend two lives without personality clashes, unless Strawberry Shortcake is marrying a Care Bear. Steve is the lucky one in this situation, since I moved for him and he doesn't have to see my friends in case he wouldn't have an unmitigated love fest with my girls.

The part that stinks the most for me isn't even the annoying friend issue. It's that Steve is intolerant to the fact that there's a conflict. He doesn't want to hear it from me, and I have become the annoying one to him on this topic. Of course his friends don’t annoy him, because he doesn’t live with them and he doesn’t have to hear them complain about me. Their wives have to hear that. And the more he freezes me out on the topic or tries to defend his bromance, the more shrill and negative I get and the more time I spend thinking about how much I hate these people. I think he's got too much man love for these morons, and even though he defends them, I frankly have no idea what he sees in them.

But there I go again, failing as a Stepford wife and complaining about the friends. It seems to me that we both have too-high expectations for me as far as this point is concerned.

Have you ever played that ‘dead arm’ game as a juvenile, wherein somebody punches the crap out of your bicep until your arm feels dead? I have that right now. I asked Steve to play this morning. And then I gave him an indian burn. And then we had a wet willy fight.

I kid.

I had an awesome workout this morning, and as a result, now I have dead arms. It’s actually a challenge to type this post right now. Which means it’s time to fuel up on caffeine, because I have no time to be impaired with the rate at which I need to crank out work today.

Happy hump day.

Mind out of the gutter.