I did write a long post. But it got swallowed up in the Black Hole of the Back Button.
It was quite an irony, really, since I was about to publish rather an Eeyore-esque post about my trials and tribulations of late. I was feeling really rather gloomy, and in need of some blogging catharsis.
And yet somehow, the fact that the computer has eaten my prophecies of doom, has cheered me up. How does THAT work?
Maybe it's because writing about all the negative shite that's happened today and over the past few days just didn't really make me feel better. But deleting it all (albeit accidentally) DID!
Well, in a nutshell, the week with SD has been a little tough - mainly emotionally, on me, because as I have mentioned before, SD is going through a Daddy-phase right now, and Wicked Steppie aint in line for much love at the moment. WS is, in fact, acting the part of the love-rival in SD's life right now. Well, she's too young for boyfriends I guess, so she's doing a little pre-pubescent Electra thing.
I realised earlier today that it wasn't so much the monopolising of DP that was getting to me. It's the fact that SD used to give me spontaneous hugs, tell me she loved me, or snuggle with me on the couch. Now, I am chopped liver, and it's all about Dad. Hard not to take that personally, or think "What did I do?"
Unfortunately, in Steppieland, all you have to do sometimes is exist. Your very existence can stir up a maelstrom, even at times when things seem to be smooth sailing. Let's face it, Steppies are a favourite scapegoat aren't they, for everything going tits up! Perhaps even natural disasters can be attributed in some way to stepmums...bet the Met office hasn't thought of that one!
I'm also a little blue because I didn't make the team that my work is sending to take part in an adventure race later in the year, and I have been busting my ass training. And lets face it, for how many people does failure not suck? I don't take it well, that's for sure, but even those who are able to put a braver face on it than I probably go home and punch walls or something.
I felt that I'd failed at my sports this week and I'd also failed at stepmothering, because it obviously must be my fault that SD is not into me right now. And I wrote this whole treatise about how the human race was doomed! That's some leap, from not making a sports team and dealing with a recalcitrant pre-adolescent (they do hit puberty much earlier these days, I'd say around 3 and a half) to the destruction of mankind. Such is the effect that failure has on me. But, I'm glad the Back button killed it. I feel that there is now some point to my continued existence on this planet.
But lets round this up with a few positives. Out of my training regime over the last couple of months, I'm looking a damn sight more toned and lost some weight, despite actually eating MORE. I've also tried new sports that I probably wouldn't have done otherwise, and even though my fitness was not good enough for the team, it's better than it was. And the things I have done through training meant that we were able to take SD canoeing and mountain biking, neither of which she had ever done before either. OK, I know she'd rather be home playing on her laptop or texting her BFF (what does that even stand for anyway?) but I guess maybe she'll thank us for it one day that we bothered to take her places and do things, instead of leaving her to rot in her bedroom all day talking to potential paedos on the net.
Or maybe she won't. But at least we'll know we tried, which is better than not, right? Better I tried for the team and spent 2 months killing myself, sorry, getting fit, riding over huge rocks on a bike, desperately trying to make a canoe go forwards and running through mud, than didn't try at all and stayed on my couch with a bottle of wine?
Talking of which, seeing as I don't have to hit the trail tonight, maybe I'll go and open that nice chilled Sauv Blanc.....