Monday, January 9, 2012
It makes me want to laugh. And cry. Sometimes at the same time! My husband created himself these labels on a particularly mad night at work recently and proudly wore them on his uniform all night long (he works nightfill in a supermarket so you can imagine what it gets like the week before Christmas!). I got up to find them stuck on his desk, as you see here.
Ever feel like you are reduced to clear? Last in line. Bottom of the heap? Yup, sometimes that is me. Wondering when there will ever be time for ME. And I mean real me time. Not sorting-through-the-photos-to-send-to-family time. Not rushing-out-to-plant-overgrown-seedlings-again time. Not even read-a-few-pages-of-a-book-that-I-can't-seem-to-get-into time. Real time for me. For me to think and breathe and BE. Sometimes I do wonder where Amy has gone in the midst of wife, mother, student, and employee. Still there, just sometimes snowed under and in need of a rescue mission. A friend rescued me recently. Probably doesn't realise, but she did. She gave me a massage. And we just chatted. It was bliss. We did not talk about my studies. We did not talk about my baby. Or my messy house, dishes, or washing. Nope, we actually talked about her. And that was nice. I felt connected with her and cherished by her care and friendship.
So then there are the times I am reduced to tears. Which doesn't happen nearly as often these days as it used to. Interesting. I think some of that is that I've worked out that tears require energy. Energy I am frequently lacking. Plus I get a disgusting head full of snot (sorry, but that is the grim reality!), a puffy red face, and just as often as not don't feel like anything was relieved or solved by all the waterworks. But, sometimes I am reduced to tears. The scary ones are when I am absolutely certain that I am over reacting. When I know that there is absolutely NO reason to cry about anything, but never the less it starts to well up inside. Yup, that's when I know that I really need to take a break and gauge my emotional thermometer (and check the calendar just in case it is THAT time of month and I can write off my emotional rollercoaster ride to hormonal fluctuations rather than emotional overload!).
Perhaps I could be like reduced cream? Creamier, longer-lasting, good-dip-making material. Whatcha reckon? Emotionally yours, Amy