The Friday Whine

I'm sorry.

My job is completely overwhelming these days. I regularly read other bloggers who somehow manage to juggle demanding jobs, demanding children, a demanding social life AND still post every day. I don't know how they do it.
They're preternatural.

Me?
Well, the state of my laundry room makes me cry.
I'm popping headache medicine like it was Pez candy.
I'm eating my weight in the Starburst Fruit Chews that our office manager insists on buying and I'll FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH for the red ones.
My work phone is the enemy. Today it told me my mailbox was full which forced me to listen to the messages that I had avoided all week. I've become that despicable person who won't take calls and who uses the receptionist as the gatekeeper.
"Delete" has become my most favourite word.
My hair is falling out by the handful which is fortuitous considering I eyeballed the clippers this morning and actually contemplated shaving myself BALD because bald people don't have to worry about humidity and frizz.
My children have not seen a steamed vegetable in a month.
By 10:00 pm, I can no longer form coherent sentences and when the alarm goes off in the morning, anxiety rises in the back of my throat like acid.
My daily task list is unreasonably long and my work days feel impossibly short.
I fight the urge, every single day, not to set my ex husband on fire.
I need a wife.
And a cocktail.
And a Xanax.
And a gratitude journal, apparently.

I had lunch with my husband today and as we were finishing our meal, the weather sirens for our town began to wail.

I don't do tornadoes well. Today was no exception.

Within minutes, I was in the car, racing towards home to collect Dylan. The wall cloud was dark and menacing and stretched as far as I could see. The sky beneath it had that telltale green hue that accompanies tornadoes. I repeatedly dialed Dylan's mobile and each time, it went to voice mail. I could feel panic percolating just under the surface.

I got home to find my son in a similar state. We grabbed a cushion off the chesterfield and huddled in the closet under the stairs. The storm passed. We were safe.

As I drove back to work, I did a little mental recalibration and decided that I needed change my attitude.

I am very fortunate to be busy enough in my job to be overwhelmed. I could be standing in an unemployment line like so many others in my town. My children are healthy in spite of their lack of broccoli and really, the situation is temporary.
We're moving to Florida where tornadoes are rare. Really, all things considered, life is good. I'm grateful.

I still want to set my ex husband on fire, though.