Let me paint you a picture:
Black flats from Target, red & white snowflake fuzzy socks from Bath & Body Works, white and black snowflake pj bottoms, white and blue Columbia jacket. Broken glasses (Bear broke one of the sides last year), newly highlighted and cut hair in a ponytail. Glass of Riesling, cigarette, sitting on my porch step looking at my two dogs, a yard full of leaves, sticks and dog poop.
How did I get here?
This morning I woke up earlier than I usually do on Mondays, my proverbial “day off”, and was highly productive. By 9 am all the laundry was sorted, the dishwasher loaded and on, Bella fed & medicined and down for a nap, Bear and I had breakfast, a to do list was made, eggs were cooking for dyeing.
Then something happened. Something went awry and sent me off kilter and I’ve been struggling to get back since.
I can’t quite figure out what it was. Was it that when I went to do the laundry I realized that the H had put a load of sheets in on Friday and they were still wet in the washer never being put in the dryer? Was it that when I incesentally called Athens he didn’t come and I thought he had jumped the fence? Was it that I stupidly checked my emailing awaiting the Prof’s response to the mistake I realized I had made end of the day Friday?
One of these things or all of these things sent me into my bed with chocolate and Desperate Housewives. Then I got a little of my mojo back. I got some laundry done, we finished our pirate easter eggs, the house was vacuumed, the fridge cleaned, the dishwasher unloaded, the kitchen counters cleaned. Then Bear went down for his nap, but Bella wouldn’t sleep. She didn’t want to sit, she didn’t want to play, she tugged on her ears and squirmed in my arms only wanting to stand.
I fought the urge to scream, “You can’t stand! I’m not going to hold you up all day.” I did however leave her in her room with her tea set and toy cell phone and told her to call someone who cares.
I hate this part of my personality. Something goes wrong, so slightly I can’t even pinpoint it and it spirals me into shutdown mode. Or eat three double stuff oreos and want to cry mode. But no tears come. I’m not a crier.
I drank some of said Riesling, felt stupid about it and dumped half of my glass down the drain. Bella’s sleeping now and so is Bear. I could and should work out. Something I had been so good about until this weekend. Now its been three days since the treadmill and I saw each other and I have no desire to go back to the basement except for another load of laundry.
I want to eat more Oreos or a hamburger, or anything. I want to go to the store and buy something, something/anything to make the children happy and relieve the guilt I feel for so thoroughly not wanting their company right now.
Fucking Prof scheduled me into a meeting at 8:15 am tomorrow to discuss the mistake I made. Really? It can’t wait until later? I’m sorry I relied on an inventory 3 months old. I’m sorry I relied on the Devo Assistant to mention to me that we were out of reply cards, which she didn’t. But is this something we need to talk about at 8:15 AM? Why do I check my work email on my day off? Why when I so passionately hate my place of work currently?
Maybe it was the email from the Dr. of Ops scheduling a lunch meeting with me and our other friends to talk about a big announcement. Maybe its the jealously that she got a promotion? won the lottery? … something I didn’t get.
Something happened and I can’t recover from it, so I’m stagnating.





