I've had a week. Not a day or moment but a whole damn week of madness. I feel like a cartoon character in a car with their hair blown straight back and eyeballs poppin out of their skull, foam sliding from the corners of my mouth and a giant vein pulsating in the center of my forehead .... And the car will only move 5 miles an hour.
I've been stretched and scattered and wearing myself out. There were not enough hands and feet and hours and CERTAINLY not enough patience. Or brain cells, for that matter.
But I did it. All of it.
I somehow took care of my clients, made it in and out of four counties all week, showed up for meetings and training, cooked for potluck, showed up for my friends, asked them to show up for me and made it to the gym finally. I helped plan another work party, got a friend to the airport, and, by the end of tomorrow, will have made it to dinner with family, attended the theater, cleaned a friends house, had a movie date, and managed to read some of the awesome book I'm pecking away at.
(I didn't, however, sleep much. That's my PSA, by the way. Fair warning ... )
My plans for this morning fell through at the last minute so I got up early and went to the gym and now, for a few precious glorious hours on this grey rainy morning, I have reprieve.
I'm breathing.
The tv remote is in its place rather than my car (Friday morning brain scramble)
There is no random drunk man crawling in the passenger seat of my car (HIS Friday evening brain scramble).
I'm just laying on my bed. Breathing.
This week drove me manic and insane.
And I need to handle my business, take a step back, stop whining and thank my blessed crazy spinning lucky stars.
Because I remember (painfully and often) when NONE of that was possible.
I'm worn out and beat up because my life is full and colorful and blessed and filled with life, love, laughter (LOTS of laughter) and truly amazing people. (And food)
Hmmmmmm
Now THERE'S something to bitch about ....
I've struggled with addiction most of my adult life. That is a true statement. Wretchedly, horrible true. But it's my truth. And I'm gettin right with it. I'm in a really really good space in my life these days.
That is also the truth.
And, even more honest than that, there have been huge amounts of time where I most certainly could not physically, emotionally or spiritually have even begun to think of weathering the week that just slammed into me. Much less doing it at all. I hated that about me. I hated the silence of the phone not ringing, the calendar being empty and no beautiful souls to surround and lift me because, lets face it, who the hell would want to.
I really and truly function better in this life when I'm not doin it alone and when it's full and colorful
and blessed and filled with life, love, laughter (LOTS of laughter) and truly amazing people.
That being said, this week WAS insane. I AM worn out. I AM cranky and petulant.
But the gift is absolutely NOT lost on me.
I have known some very bad weeks indeed. And if this is the very worst that could happen to me in the past seven days then I'm doing pretty damn good.
I'm actually blessed and rich beyond measure.
So bring it on. I got this. I don't even have to like it to "got this". When it's all said and done and I'm laying in the bed with a few glorious hours to catch my breath before I'm locked and loaded again I'm actually giving thanks.
Thank you for madness and insanity. Thank you for overworked day planners and irritating Outlook reminders. Thank you for sandwich prowlers and strange lost drunk passengers. Thank you for lovely angels that laugh in my face and say "bless your heart" when I'm not acting right. Thank you for meatballs!
These are lil baby memories that I wouldn't have had otherwise. And, knowing me, probably odd stories that I'll be spinning out for anyone who needs a good laugh.
But for right now I gotta hurry up and chill out.
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