The Blonde Leading the Blind

Ending your Friday in tears as you drive home is always a great way to start a weekend.

It’s been a really stressful few weeks, and by about 4:45 p.m. this afternoon, my strength had just waned too far.  Hi, my name is the Blonde, and I’m a crier.  OK, so that’s a lie.  Truthfully, I’m a loud, foul-mouthed, passive-aggressive, who when too stressed, really upset, or truly angry, would prefer to unleash a tidal-wave- sized tirade of snarky comments infused with lots of witty barbs and choice curse words that would make your always inappropriate cousin Earl totally blush.

But…of course, that’s just not how we do things in a quasi-civilized society.  So instead, I keep most of my emotions in check, and when the shell starts to crack, I cry.

I cry because I can’t remember to do anything anymore unless I write it down, which means a lot of things have just gone undone lately.

I cry because my workspace is in total chaos as I move from one location to another and can’t find anything I need anywhere, nor the couple hours of free time I need to just get it done.

I cry because things have been unsettled at work since Christmas, and I can’t remember what it feels like for things to be normal.

I cry because I’m neglecting my blog, my books, and other things that bring me peace, because I’m trying to live healthier and cook at home, and pack my breakfast and lunch, and take the dogs for walks, and workout every day.

I cry because I know if I don’t neglect these things, I’ll never have to the chance to do the one thing I want most.

I cry because my job responsibilities are changing, and while I’m excited to have new opportunities and to work with new colleagues on new projects, I’m heartbroken about no longer being a part of the team of people that have made my job rock for the past three years.

I cry because it’s only two months before we leave for our dream vacation, and I’ve not been disciplined enough to meet one single goal I set for myself.

I cry because I feel guilty at how my feeling overwhelmed and stressed out impacts my family.

I cry because I can’t stop crying.

And when I can no longer feel my heart flip-flopping like a fish in my chest, my pulse pounding in my temples, and my mind running through the virtually endless checklist of all the things I’ve left undone, I stop.

And tomorrow is a brand new day.