Friday. A day that many weekday workers rejoice at, pray for, and anticipate all week long.
I have become one of them since having babies 6 years ago. Before that, I knew the joy of 32 day weeks, 144 hour days, and months in a row without vacation.
This is a much better speed of living, and I think in no small part because of it, I find my mind has more time to take the little side trips that it enjoyed once, in the days before my career and children caused it to click along more narrow tracks.
Today was one of those days. I clicked along the track, accomplishing errands before work, then errands again, then home, hugged my children and then enjoyed quality time with my partner.
A glorious Friday by my standards, if not as wild and crazy as a Friday is for others.
But you see, there is two of me. There is the work me, and the real me. I could subdivide further, but I like to keep the divisions crisp.
At work, I am caring, and thoughtful, and always (usually) bite my tongue and smile, regardless of any internal struggle that may be occurring. I work through problems with people calmly, rationally, and maturely.
The real me is the one who can handle the true challenges though- processing the emotions and devastations and triumphs of the day.
The real me is the one who occasionally jumps the rails, going off on a tangent of poetry or prose, letting all the turmoil out into a nice, cathartic story.
That doesn’t mean I’m depressed, although I thank everyone so much for caring enough to ask.
The real me struggles with the big problems, like putting socks on correctly and kissing boo boos, remembering to buy the presents, drop off the item, and pick up the child. Helping loved ones with whatever I can.
Accepting I can’t do everything, and that I’m not omniscient
The real me is the one who sometimes dreams of running away to an island in the sun with peace and quiet after hearing paw patrol play for three straight hours.
I think I’m teetering on the mythical thing we call balance- like the fulcrum on a delicate glass toy. Sometimes a little up, sometimes a little down, but in the middle enough to see light on all sides,
Things are still hectic, but I’m getting more graceful every day.
