High Stress Days

I feel like screaming. And screaming. And screaming. But all that I would accomplish would be a sore throat and maybe not even lower the stress.

As I was backing up my computer to an external hard drive, the computer's hard drive crashed. I lost pictures, music, videos, and movies and no telling what else I lost because I can't remember.

So I went ahead and updated from Tiger operating system to Leopard. iPhoto09 is interesting. I am able to include the GPS data from my photos. I like that idea because if I want to go back somewhere , can't remember where that picture was taken, I can then do find where through my previous photos.

My daughters are fit to be tied. Pitching fits. I was asked to go out to a fancy restaurant and that I would be treated for my birthday which is later in July. Both girls, (adult, 19 and 21) are wailing the fact that they were not invited, that their birthday's are before mine and that I have been out with my friend several times this year to see a movie usually and they are not invited. Whine and whine more. Usually her friend Mary will come with us or her daughter who lives next door. I find it hard to understand why either one of my daughters want to hang our with middle to late 50 year old women. The daughter is 33, maybe 32 years of age, single, doesn't date and likes the movies we like. It is getting to the point, all the bickering, the tears etc, I would rather not be asked to go out "with the girls". I don't get invited often, just a couple of times a year. My friend, her friend Mary and the daughter do go out at least once sometimes 3 times a month together. So I am not talking about my going out often so I truly don't understand what all the fuss is about.

One daughter wakes me up yelling. Example, before 8 am this morning, she flips on the bedroom light, yanks the covers off of me and tells me to get up, have my coffee, take my meds and that I will not be going back to sleep. I stayed up till one this morning, working on retrieving data from back-up disk. I do not work. I do not cook (she will complain about my "burnt cooking at the most inappropriate time, in front of strangers), and the other daughter turns her nose up at most every food. Even my husband makes jokes at my expense about my lack of cooking skills.

Well, I could belly-ache more but it would not relieve the stress that this week has begun with.

Moan and groan, moan and groan. I suppose it could be worse. I could be living in a war torn country.