Today, for the first time, I feel like maybe I've had enough. I've had enough of parenting and the endless driving and fighting through traffic and gridlock to get to orthodontist appointments, and baseball practice, and anywhere else someone needs to go. I've had enough of living my life sitting at red lights.
I've had enough of never being able to fit it all in. Rushing, endlessly rushing to get somewhere else, to make it on time, to be somewhere else, to cut one place early only to arrive somewhere else late. I've had enough of only 24 hours in a day, and none of them seeming to hold a full 60 minutes.
I've had enough of holding it together, being in the know, taking the blame, and being on point for whatever it is that hasn't gone right, or deviated from the plan, and just generally absorbing everyone else's angst, unhappiness, anxiety, confusion, and malaise. I'm only one person. I may be responsible for some of it; but it wouldn't be possible to be responsible for all of it. No one person can be that catastrophic. Or can she?
I've had enough of it never being enough. There's nothing left. "I don't know. Ask Jeannette." No. Whatever you do, do not ask her. Because the universe won today, and she's glad to be just one of the dozens of losers it left in its wake. The anonymity of defeat never felt so comforting.
"they say the owl was a baker's daughter. lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be." (Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 5)
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- ► 2011 (13)