Today, I decide to peruse the blog archives and comb over the various drafts that pepper the published posts. I deleted a few, and came across the following below, written back in March of this year...
This morning, I woke up before the sun (which is really not that early these days, but doesn't it feel like it anyway?) to get ready for a meeting. In said meeting, I managed to slice open my palm with the enormous chuck of loose papers that are currently residing in my pad-folio, so part of the next two minutes involved my clandestine attempt to curb the bleeding whilst still writing notes. I came home, changed out of my business clothes and began my day of working and mom-ing with my thoroughly adorable, but teething, daughter. Daughter decides to claw my face, and so now my chin and my hand have similar-looking cuts. Who knew working and mom-ing could be so violent?
I have a point, btw.
Lately, I have never felt so tired and so fragmented. I'm not complaining, mind you, since I am really blessed to have a beautiful child, a wonderful husband and a fantastic job. However, all of the wonderfulness is kind of pretty much completely exhausting. I find my mental acuity waning and my emotions waxing. I've developed what I call a "tender mother heart" which means I apparently can cry about anything terrible, precious or terribly precious. I've also developed what I call a "contiguous brain fart." (Hey, those two things I just mentioned rhymed. Unintentionally, might I add.)
I wanted to publish this, not only to remind myself why I made the choice I made (especially on the days where I really miss my amazing job), but to also remind myself that life will always be filled with a juxtaposition of emotions and events.
Plus, it helped stave my craving to post about something political. Because we all know how well that turned out four years ago. Ahem.
Like it v. Love it: Mini Luggage Totes
11 years ago
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