…these are the Days of [My Life]. Just can’t seem to shake the funk. The days all seem to run together and I never feel like I get any time to do anything. Work has been pretty steady with frequent extra hour opportunities, for which I am grateful. BUT between work, school (I have mentioned I went back to school again?), being a taxi to one of my kids and just all the other everyday run of the mill bs I feel like I can’t get ahead and I certainly can’t relax. I’m not really sure what I was thinking.
It’s been another long day here. I barely got my hours in for my regular work, let alone managed to do much related to my writing. Spent four hours basically sitting in the car (as a favor for family) and between that and the odd ways in which I contort myself every other day of the week in order to get things done, it’s definitely taking a toll on me. I’m in so much pain — the part of my back sort of between my shoulder blades and down the center — that I had to call upon one of
One of these things is not like the other. One of these things doesn’t belong. Can you tell which thing is not like the other by the time I finish this song? — Sesame Street Ah, yep, me. I don’t belong. It’s not a new feeling. I’ve honestly never, ever, in my entire life for as far back as I have memories felt like I ever belonged anywhere. Not within the circle of my immediate family, my extended family, amongst my peers at school, or even those few years where I
and a gazillion dollars short. I fumbled the ball a bit, as I promised to aim for one post a week and here it is a day late. Not to make excuses, but I’ve been really, really, really drowning in overwhelming emotion lately, which may or may not be evident if you’ve peeped any of my other somewhat recent posts. Still floundering but managing to get my chin up for air now and again. It’s difficult to maintain focus on any one thing with so much going on and so many crazy roller coaster rides running at triple speed in
It’s getting harder to wake up each morning, yet I continue to do so for my children more than anything. They’re almost all grown. Nowhere near ready to tackle life entirely on their own quite yet. I’m growing more hopeless and tired of struggling all the time. Every day. Every single day. Why is it so hard to get by in this world? Is it because I just can’t conform to the expectations of this ridiculous society in which we exist? Is it because I am ultimately unworthy? I can’t really seem to figure it out. I’ve continued to push