I'm here
I'm here
I've been contemplating what to do with this blog. Keep up with it? Let it just slowly fade away? Start a new one? I'm stalled out.
Today, I'm sleepy and emotional after last night. Like everyone else I talked to today, I spent hours sobbing and sobbing in front of the t.v. screen, watching "that one" deliver the speech, feeling freed from eight years of anger and frustration and shame. Today I feel wobbly and unsure, hardly daring to believe things might be different, but deeply and profoundly grateful that they are.
But, to be honest, I'm also dealing with the fact that not everything is different. My mom is still sick, my dad is still sick. I'm sitting here wolfing down soup in front of my monitor, trying to rally enough enthusiasm to teach a class tonight that has been nothing but draining and frustrating for most of the semester. Dealing with the fact that I work in an organization dominated by aging men who are charming and smart and also manipulative and power-hungry. I'm tired of fighting them and defending myself, and wondering if I'm the one who is nuts. I'm trying to make sense of twelve-hour days, and of leaving Addie crying in her preschool classroom because she's worn out and misses me, too. Wondering--not a lot, maybe not in a real way, but wondering--if there isn't something wrong with the choices I've made in life. And then, I'm worried it doesn't make that much of a difference.
Basically, I've got the its-almost-the-end-of-the-semester-but-got-five-more-weeks-of-slogging-through blues. I'm tired, and I'm cranky. And I'm not supposed to be either on a day such as this.
So, there you have it. Now I bet you're wishing I hadn't posted.
I'm here
I've been contemplating what to do with this blog. Keep up with it? Let it just slowly fade away? Start a new one? I'm stalled out.
Today, I'm sleepy and emotional after last night. Like everyone else I talked to today, I spent hours sobbing and sobbing in front of the t.v. screen, watching "that one" deliver the speech, feeling freed from eight years of anger and frustration and shame. Today I feel wobbly and unsure, hardly daring to believe things might be different, but deeply and profoundly grateful that they are.
But, to be honest, I'm also dealing with the fact that not everything is different. My mom is still sick, my dad is still sick. I'm sitting here wolfing down soup in front of my monitor, trying to rally enough enthusiasm to teach a class tonight that has been nothing but draining and frustrating for most of the semester. Dealing with the fact that I work in an organization dominated by aging men who are charming and smart and also manipulative and power-hungry. I'm tired of fighting them and defending myself, and wondering if I'm the one who is nuts. I'm trying to make sense of twelve-hour days, and of leaving Addie crying in her preschool classroom because she's worn out and misses me, too. Wondering--not a lot, maybe not in a real way, but wondering--if there isn't something wrong with the choices I've made in life. And then, I'm worried it doesn't make that much of a difference.
Basically, I've got the its-almost-the-end-of-the-semester-but-got-five-more-weeks-of-slogging-through blues. I'm tired, and I'm cranky. And I'm not supposed to be either on a day such as this.
So, there you have it. Now I bet you're wishing I hadn't posted.
Not at all. Happy you posted. I get it, the roller coaster, the self-questioning, the happiness about Obama, the feeling wrung out--the whole bit. I just finished a bartending shift on a Wednesday night and am trying to figure out how to quit that job and still have enough $$ to make my student loan payments.
ReplyDeleteLove you, though. Miss you. Thanks.
_N