Brian has to fly today, so he has to be at work at 5:45. He's been tripping over stuff that HE DIDN'T PUT AWAY TO BEGIN WITH, but somehow that's my fault. He came to kiss me goodbye, and I heard his car start and drive away.

Not five minutes later there's a body looming in the dark, in my doorway. I didn't hear him come back and I didn't hear him come in the house. And I know for a fact that I was awake because I was tossing and turning trying to go back to sleep, cursing him because he woke me up to begin with. And he tripped over the same box that he tripped over the first time. It was everything I could do to keep from screaming, I was so freakin' scared. My heart is still pounding, and it's been 20 minutes.

Apparently, he forgot his reflective belt and he has to have it, and hey, don't forget he HAS TO BE AT WORK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. So he's thrashing about our room trying to find it. I tell him I haven't seen it in the house in months because he doesn't usually bring it in. So he keeps thrashing about and getting more and more pissed. Finally he asks for help, but he was really pissy about it. (I won't help him look for something unless he spefically asks for help, on principle. Especially if he's being a bunghole about it.) So I get up and help him look in all the places he would have left it. Nope, no belt. After a whopping three minutes he storms off, saying he has to leave.

OK, soooooooooooooooooo...you're tripping over stuff that you left laying around, you're running late because you hit snooze too many times, you can't find a peice of MANDATORY GEAR, and somehow this is all my fault. Gotcha. I'll keep that in mind. In the meantime, HAVE A NICE STINKING FLIGHT AND KISS MY BUTT WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!!

I really hate when he flies mad at me, especially if it's not even my fault. I have this fear that something will happen to the jet (even though there's only been one crash in 40 years) and that he'll die mad at me.

It's 6 in the morning, and I have no prospects of going back to sleep now. I'm tired, I'm still shaking from thinking there was a murderer standing in my doorway, and I'm annoyed as all get out with my husband. The creep.

I do not like the person that I am.

That sounds horrible, doesn't it? Espcially since I'm on meds that are supposedly supposed to HELP me feel better. Instead, they're making everything clearer. I am a bitch. I am not a nice person. I can completely understand why nobody wants to hang out with me anymore. I wouldn't want to hang out with me!

What's so bad about me? DH says I'm negative about all the people we're "friends" with. I think that's because I've been using the negativity as a guard against being hurt. (Newsflash, Meg, it ain't workin'.) I'm extremely impatient with my children. And the more impatient I get, the more they do exactly what it is that's driving me crazy. I'm a control freak. If things aren't going exactly the way I think they should be, I get irate. I feel like I'm constantly angry. For no good reason. Look at me funny and I'm likely to rip your head off. I'm extremely judgemental. Goes along with that control freak thing, I guess.

I swear up and down that I don't care if people like me or not, but come on. How can you NOT care if people like you. Especially people you used to be friends with?

I want to be a nice person. I want to be able to honestly say that I like who I am. I want to be able to find joy instead of irritation in my life. Problem is, how do I get there?

So I've been meaning to start a blog for a loooooooong time now. Might as well get around to it now, eh?

My name is Meg, and I'm 29 years old. I'm married to Brian, and we live in Okinawa Japan with our three kids. B. is 8, C. is 6, and M. is 2. All three of our children were born in June. No, Brian and I don't restrict our sex to just September, God was just playing a joke on us. I opened my big mouth when I realized my due date with C. and said, "We won't be able to have any more kids, or they'll all be born in June." Why oh WHY did I have to say that? So yeah, 3 kids, all in June. It's just as bad as Christmas.

Why are we in Okinawa? Brian is in the Air Force. We met in the Air Force when I was active duty, we had the same job. We got married two weeks before I became a civilian, and B. was born two weeks later. I've followed him around the world ever since. OK, not so much around the world, until now. So far we've lived in Oklahoma, where we met (yeeeehaw), Arizona, and now, Okinawa. We're here for one more year, then hopefully we'll be able to go to Alaska. Doubtful though. We'll probably end up back in Oklahoma.


Well, I've told you about my family, but not much about me. There really isn't much to tell though. Like I said, I'm 29, I'll be 3o in December. I always say "The closer I get to 30, the younger it seems." Hm. I'll need to change that to 40. I'm about 100 lbs overweight, and supposedly I wear it well. I don't quite understand that, because if you're fat then you're fat. I need to lose the weight, I know I need to lose the weight, and eventually I WILL lose the weight. But please, don't tell me I wear it well. It's just as bad as saying, "You've got such a pretty face." Hm, what else? I'm a Pampered Chef consultant. I've been selling PC since April, and just took a short break this summer while Brian was on leave, but now I'm getting back into it. I've had an addiction to PC products for five years now, so I might as well be earning the money rather than spending it.


OK, enough for now.......