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Looking for a missing person is depressing. Especially if you know the missing person isn’t alive anymore.

‘Cita and I went out again. It was raining and the only thing we had to go on was something Christie’s step father had mentioned. He said that a physic had called from back East and said, “She’s under a bridge.” We looked under about 8 bridges yesterday.

I didn’t realize how dirty the world is until you’ve walked along the roadside. How people can just stop the car and toss out a kitchen bag full of garbage is beyond me! I mean, when I forget to pay the garbage bill, I at least take the 13 bags of garbage out behind Albertsons shopping center and use their big ol’ dumpster.

I use to have nightmares that the cops would pull up in front of the house and arrest me for dumping my garbage in a dumpster. I’m a modern day Arlo Gutherie. (many of you won’t get that, it’s okay….it’s random)

Strangely, since I started searching for Christie, my anxiety has gone away. I only have bursts of them that last less than a minute. This is HUGE for me. Most of the anxiety attacks last for about 10 minutes…which is exactly how long it takes to convince yourself that you’re going to stop breathing and pass out.

The flipside is that I am getting ticked off super fast. The last time I had this much bottled up anger is when I was going through postpartum depression. I had my family on pins and needles for months while I tried to figure out how to control all the rage I had inside of me.
I actually thought of where to bury my husband in the backyard when he made the STUPID mistake of getting me a MOTHER’S RING….ON MOTHER’S DAY! What the hell was HE thinking?
I feel bad about that one. He was trying to do something nice for me and because he didn’t get the clue (the big 8 x 11 tear out of the ring I wanted on the fridge for 2 months) I decided that he needed some physical violence and daggers thrown from my eyeballs.
Someone remind me to call him and tell him I’m sorry for that one.

Now the little things are ticking me off. STUFF is pissing me off. STUFF that the kids are leaving around the house, losing, borrowing and not putting away.
The sound of the 15 year old chewing his food. NEVER in history of man, even going back to the caveman days, has anybody been a louder eater. SMACKING as he chews his food. I can hear the food as it is suctioned between his teeth.
How he has made it to 15 without someone, other than me, telling him to shut his mouth while eating just staggers the imagination.
He too will be buried in the backyard if he doesn’t learn how to eat like humans.

So in light of my ‘kill the people who live with me’ mood I am in…This week Stuff Portrait Friday is going to be a little bit on the weird side.

SPF: December 2, 2005 – CSI

1. Your Weapons
2. Your Victim
3. Your Crime Scene

Now I know many of you will be mad about this week.
“She’s sposta set certain things! A DISHTOWEL, A COUCH, MY CAR! She can’t make us ‘think’ of what to take pictures of!”

Yes, I am making you think. Let me just give you a few examples of things I might take pictures of for this week.
If…and this isn’t too big of a stretch…IF I were to commit a crime, I would totally use something that makes sense to me. Like say…AN XBOX to the side of the head. Maybe a PLATE OF FOOD. PERHAPS THE DOG’S LEASH…because GOD KNOWS the boy isn’t using it to walk the dog!

*deep breath*

I’m trying to decide if I want the anxiety attacks or the pent up anger. Which one would you choose?