Opinion: Curves ahead


You know you’re in a bad way when you find yourself huddled in the garage, tears and mascara streaming down your face, shoving empty Capri Suns, a used coffee filter, and two wet paper towels back into a ripped-open trash bag and cussing the living daylights out of your stupid Labrador. Flashback to a couple of Sundays ago, and that was me. Obviously not the pillar of graceful beauty I’d been going for. How did I get there?  Read on, my friends.

You may recall that my life has been a bit stressful of late. Work, parenting, hormones . . . an evil trifecta hell-bent on sending me into a mild middle-age funk.  I thought I’d managed the worst of it, but the universe had a few more curveballs to throw in my direction, starting with a sudden week-long business trip for my husband Doo that began the same day as my first-ever speech team coaching gig. Ten hours at a local high school on a Saturday plus my unnerving experience driving a mini-bus to and from said high school already had me a bit grumpy when I arrived home that evening to begin my term as a single-mom. But when I saw the state of the house, I really lost it.  I screamed at kids and threw dishes and then stormed outside to begin disassembling our blown-over, left-to-die Halloween decorations just so I could have a moment alone. Luckily for all involved, I went to bed soon thereafter before I could do any real damage.

The next morning, I felt only slightly better, as nightmares of a zombie apocalypse robbed me of blissful sleep. Then another curveball. My youngest learned that her good friend’s father had passed away the day before. She held it together for a while, but on the way to Sunday school, finally broke down. Her comment “I can’t imagine not having my daddy” broke my heart.

As guilt from the previous night’s mommy rampage settled in, so did the awareness of how petty my issues have been. I was a horrible person for complaining about a dirty kitchen and bratty children and an absentee spouse (even though he was probably enjoying a nice steak dinner before heading off to his clean, quiet hotel room.)

So when I pulled back into the garage and saw trash strewn across the floor, well, there you have it.  The build-up of fatigue, bitterness, and sadness over the last day and a half erupted into a geyser of sobs and F-bombs. Not my finest moment.

I’m pleased to report however that I’m mostly back to normal, undoubtedly just in time for another curveball. I’ll keep you posted!

Peace out.

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