I’m a nearly 30 year old, undomesticated, slovenly

I’m a nearly 30 year old, undomesticated, slovenly wreck.  Last weekend, I did not speak to or listen to anyone the entire day.  Silence is luxuriant to me; it’s better than than dipping into a warm bubble bath.

I just had a very emotional weekend.  On Friday, my cell phone went bizerk in front of the Grand Poopahs of the Establishment, and I lost every single voicemail, video and picture I had saved to my cell phone of my Dad.  It took HOURS to recover them thanks to brilliant folks at the Apple store.  And I have been in a first rate funk ever since.

It’s just all so hard.  Single handily running a household is hard work.  I look back out how bright pictures of me from a few years ago looked.  I glowed.  The glow of  a girl who has the wind always at her back.  I still smile with my soul, through my eyes, but I haven’t glowed in awhile.

So, this weekend, I’m trying yet another intervention.  I’m trying out a CrossFit.  I have to find a way to feel better about myself.  I need the endorphin crack.  I need to loose this ridiculous weight that is slowly edging me out of the gene pool.  And mostly, I need to laugh again.  The laugh of a happy girl rather than the sigh of an overworked women.  I don’t know what combination of interventions its going to take to get me back to normal.  MollyMaids cleaning my house.  Vacations.  Exercise.  Hugs.  Something. I need professional help to whip my house and my physique back into shape.  But this time next year, I’m going to be the women I want to be, so help me God, I’ll be her.