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.