Today I returned to work after having been home sick for nearly a week with a stomach bug. The day prior to my getting sick had been a rough day at work. I came into the office the next day and was headed home sick by 10am. What followed were a string of days in which there was too much to do, not enough time, and I felt horrible. I felt uninspired. I felt sorry for myself. I wished I could be a stay at home mom so that when Tuesday finally did arrive I could just focus on our girls. I wished I could stop time for just a second so I could be sure we were all ready for school to start (my husband goes back this week too). I wished I didn’t have to think about losing weight anymore (because honestly…it gets old). I wished I had something to look forward to on Tuesday morning like our girls and my husband did. And I wished I had something to write about that wouldn’t be filled with b-tching and moaning.
The past couple weeks have been tricky. For the second time in two years my dermatologist found a little bit of skin cancer that had to be removed. This time it was behind my knee. Not a great location for someone who a for one, was just recently able to exercise again and b for two, has a hard time keeping stitches in. I was to be very cautious for the first week and relatively careful the second week. I decided to push my limits and I continued to walk Sully each day. I walked slowly so I reasoned it would be fine. And it was for the first seven days…until my stitches burst open at work, my leg bled all over, and I was forced to go back for a second round of stitches. I was scolded and told that under no circumstances should I be exercising.
Have I mentioned that I get a little crazy when I don’t exercise?
At the beginning of last week I was feeling a) discouraged, b) a little crazy, and c) completely and utterly uninspired. And then I got sick. Coincidence? My guess? Not so much.
I know I only have control over so much. I can control my behavior, my reactions, my ability to deal with stress, etc. Last week certainly, and for much of the summer, I’ve allowed external factors to shape my outlook and my mood. If I recall correctly, that’s how my husband and I almost fell apart a couple of years ago. You’d think I would have learned my lesson. Yet, here I am, bowing to the stress of situations around me. Which is such an embarrassing thing to admit.
I’ve allowed myself to feel sorry for myself this weekend. I didn’t feel well, and I felt unusually defeated about the things in my life that I’m not so pleased about, so I reasoned it was okay to stay in sweats, not wear make-up, and be a crab. The unfortunate part about that is that it doesn’t help matters. It’s not like you wake-up from a weekend of self-pity and feel better. You wake-up and want another day of self-pity. Just one more day.
And then maybe one more.
So I either need to change course or I need to stop being surprised when I wake-up less than thrilled to face the day. One of the two. I’m so tired of not being excited to jump out of bed. This is not who I am…and yet…the more I do it the more it becomes exactly who I am. Which is absolutely not acceptable.
TODAY: What if it’s time to take control, shake things up, and turn this boat around?
MAMACADABRA 