I so want to write something clever or profound this evening, and it just ain’t happenin’. It’s Dad’s night with the kids, so it’s just me, the keyboard, some random show on TV to provide some noise, and Maya, the sweet boxer that I’m foster-parenting for awhile. (See Goal #5)
In light of the fact that I really just feel like getting rip-roaring drunk and going to sleep until, say, Wednesday night when the kids get home, I think I’ll just update you on my COFFEE project goals and call it a day. (I’ll have accomplished another goal in doing that – NOT getting rip-roaring drunk and crashing out until Wed., thank you very much.)
1. U 2.0 – No real updates here, but I would still appreciate your prayers and good mojo vibes… (Thanks!)
2. Training for the Half – Thirteen-ish weeks to go, and I’m starting to get really nervous about this. I have a respiratory “thing” right now, and running HURTS right now. That, and I cough & hack like a 70-year-old man who smokes about 20 packs a day (and has for 5 decades) and wipe snot for hours on end after I run. Plus, I’m really nervous, and my gut gets queasy just thinking about running in a race. So I run with a queasy stomach, a hacking cough, a full-on booger fiesta, and I just want it to be easy, dang it. Ugh. I’m hoping once I’m healthy, I’ll get out of this stupid running rut and get my head out of my butt about this. It will get easier, and I’m going to enjoy this process. I will.
3. Book project – After taking most of the holidays off, I’ve had a hard time getting back into the writing groove. I hate that I voluntarily put the kibosh on things and let the momentum screech to a violent (and stupid) halt. I did have a great conversation with someone who is going to be very important to my project this week, so that has re-lit the fire under my butt.
4. Pondering studenthood – Research continues… I’m getting excited about this. And scared.
5. Co-parenting – I’m in survival mode here, folks. We did okay through the holidays. We did. Now that it’s back to the everyday stuff of life, it’s a little tougher. I miss those kids so much when they’re not with me that it hurts. I wonder what they’re doing, what they’re feeling, how they are. I know they’re fine. I cared for them 99.9999% of the time for their whole lives, and now I have to share. That hurts. The house is quiet, and the quiet hurts. Maybe if I moan about it some more, it won’t hurt anymore. Ya think? Yeah, I know. Not so much…
I know, I said I’d list ‘em and call it a day… and I should. It’s just that I’m trying to be positive about this whole ordeal. I know it’s for the best, and I know the kids need their dad. They’ve needed him for ages and ages. And now they finally have him. On one hand, I’m so happy for them I can hardly take it. On the other, I am so angry that it’s taken THIS for them to get him….. Breathe, Steph. Down, girl… in through the nose, out through the mouth… rinse and repeat…
I just looked at the book I’m reading (a juicy historical romance a student let me borrow) right now. The bookmark I made myself a yellow sticky note) is sticking up out of the top, so I opened it up and read again for about the bazillionth time what’s scratched on it in Sharpie.
“It’s not what you get in life, it’s what you do with it that counts.”
I have no idea where that came from, who said it, or anything; it’s the truth, though. It’s my new mantra, and it’s something I’ve strategically placed through the house, the car, my desk at work, and in my planner. It’s my reminder that I get to choose. And when I’m like I am right now, I really have to help myself remember that I can choose to throw the self-serving (yet destructive) pity party OR I can choose to remember the kids and what they’re getting out of all of this. It’s what I do with all of this that counts.
Yeah, yeah, yeah… maybe tomorrow…