We all arrived home late last evening, following what may have been my worst professional week ever. It was one of those weeks that made me question my career, values, and general worth. I was the worst version of myself on all fronts and could feel my sanity flaking away like old paint on a seaside house.
So very many things went wrong, and on any given week I may have been able to deal, just not this week. We are preparing to make an offer on a house. It is terrifying for many more reasons than I have time to explain. I am a hormonal hurricane, most realistically attributed to my birth control, age, and reproductive ambivalence. January and February are just plain hard. The student who taught me most about teaching (and living) died unexpectedly early one February. Another student, sweet and eager and wonderful, fell ill at school and died later that day. We were just back from Christmas break. And maybe I didn’t learn how to deal with this because I didn’t study to be a teacher, but it haunts me now. The memories of these students and the unfairness of it all, and the knowing that nothing really is ever within our control.
By Friday I was emotionally overdrawn. I let C stay late at aftercare and did 2 miles at the gym. Matt had been to the bank and because I am such a wonderful partner, I immediately began to question his financial judgement. An argument (during which I loudly threw a spoon at his face, told him to go fuck himself and make his own fucking dinner) immediately ensued and I spent the rest of the evening alternately laughing at the “family” movie we were watching and giving him the stink eye from my perch on the couch.
No wonder. He crept in this morning with coffee and gently sat down on the bed. He asked “are you going to have a little break down?” I nodded in affirmation and grabbed the box of tissues. So, post-little-breakdown, we spent the entire morning snowshoeing with the dogs. He’s off to do more side-work and I am home alone, not enjoying my quiet time. It turns out that my silence is most enjoyed (and efficient) when all of my people are here and asleep.
3 thoughts on “Sweet Solitude?”
spoons hurt lady!
Spoons hurt, Lady!
Spoons might hurt, but I can think of a lot worse punishments! Sometimes when there are so many things going on in our lives, just a little bump in the road seems like a mountain to climb. Supporting each other is just part of of loving someone – at some point Matt will be in a pissy mood and through a spoon back at you… or worse – serenade with an AC/DC song 😉