When The Going Gets Tough, Eat More Fiber

I don’t know what I want today’s post to be about.  I only know that I want and need to write.  Perhaps to provide myself some clarity.  Maybe to pass the time.  Ultimately, it is to figure out what is on my mind and……get it off.

Could it be that work has me stressed?  That I’m already doing the job of three people isn’t enough.  They give me half of a fourth job because the person for whom it is intended has a lazy streak longer than the River Nile and an attitude to rival The Cryptkeeper’s.  Why that person is still employed is beyond me.  Seeing as I’m the freakin’ HUMAN RESOURCE MANAGER I would assume that I have the power to oust her Righteousness, however I do not.  And the two people that do conveniently left their balls in the pockets of the pants they wore back in 1977.  And so, as it goes, the HR Manager is now also the PART TIME RECEPTIONIST because, apparently, benefit administration, payroll, safety management, workers compensation, first aid and event planning isn’t enough to fill my plate.  Wait, did I say four jobs?  I meant SIX.

No, I’m not bitter.

Maybe my two year old is the culprit of this restless mind of mine.  I can’t possibly imagine why, though I have a sneaking suspicion that it could be slightly due to the temper tantrums that seem to chase me around from the time her precious little feet hit the threshold of her daycare to the time they are buried in blankets, silent for the night.  Or her digression from potty training and losing the Binky.  Or attempting to knock off her baby sister.  Yes, that might be a contributing factor.

Or I could be in my Early Life Crisis.  As in I want to go back to school.  Or start my own business.  Or finally record that demo.  Or be a Stay-At-Home-Mom that has dinner on the table by 5:30 every day and makes pies and cakes and never sets her eyes upon a whole entire load of unwashed laundry and fits in a three-mile jog around the park on each and every sunny day or frequents the gym to keep her curvy physique in check.

Physique!  HA!  The “D-Word” issued a Cease and Desist order approximately 3 months ago and, while I’ve managed to maintain the loss of poundage that I did get around to, I haven’t progressed in a very long time.  I know. I know.  YOU think I’m gorgeous just the way I am (and I love you for that) but YOU don’t see me nekkid every day.  The mirror is a dark, dark place.

I find myself lost in thought a lot of the time.  Thoughts of what COULD be.  Then I feel guilty and try to concentrate on what IS.  Because what IS are the little joys that get me through the days.  My children, tantrums, getaways and all, are my refuge.  They are my refuge and my husband is the fort.  Together, they protect me and ward off the armies of pessimism that knock at the mighty gate of sanity.  They are the blessings that I count and reflect on when I’m wishing for one, big, giant, walk-in closet.

Like today.

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