Do you ever have those days when you think you're crap at life?
When you feel like you're doing your job badly, and everyone knows it? (Sometimes it's worse, actually, if you think people haven't quite figured it out yet, but you know they will one day soon). When you realise that productivity is the measure, the only measure that counts, and your output is dangerously, disturbingly low?
Where you truly believe you're a bad, inadequate parent, and you're ruining your kids? When, for all that you love them more than life itself, you feel like you're raising self-entitled, badly behaved little humans who can't seem to go ten minutes without a screaming fit of one kind or another?
When you look in the mirror and see not just fatness, which isn't so problematic, but deep-seated ugliness looking back at you?
When you understand that your perception that you can't retain friends is in fact a true one, and based on the fact that the more people know you, the less they like you?
When you look around your house and actually despair at the disordered state of it, at the dust and the mess and the clutter?
When you hurt, in body and spirit, aching teeth and aching soul both desperate for novocaine?
When you're overwhelmed, exhausted and overcome?
When you want to cry and cry and never stop, even though there is really no reason and you should be grateful for all the things you have and really you are but today ...
Today, you are crap at life. You can't go over it, you can't go around it, so you just have to go through it.
This is post 7 in NaBloPoMo. 7 down, 23 to go.
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Yes. A thousand times yes. Isn't it the most awful of days? Glad it was yesterday for me, gone now.
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