I don’t know what the deal is but Valentine’s Day really screwed me up. I didn’t really get back into gear until today and even then I kind of had to fake it.
I hadn’t worked out in five days and I could feel the crazy beginning to set in. The only cure would be a nice long run. It seemed warm enough when I stepped out back, so I bundled Penelope up and headed for the trail. She quickly decided that it was NOT warm enough and that a long run was NOT a good idea. It was all well and good for me because I felt like The Tin Man running low on oil. I just couldn’t find my stride.
That just seems to be the theme of my life right now. I just can’t get into a productive groove. I’m never sitting, yet I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything. I think it is only fair that if you aren’t able to get anything done then there should be some relaxation involved, but sadly relaxation seems to be missing from the equation.
For some reason the grad class I’m taking right now is kicking my butt and the worst part is that I don’t even know why this is the case. I mean, I gave birth to Penelope in the middle of a session and was still able to come out with a 98. Why can’t I do that now? My house is always in some stage of chaos and the piles of laundry seem to multiply every time I turn my head. Nothing is panning out the way I would like for it to.
When I’m not doing school work, or wiping noses, or cooking, or dealing with pre-teen drama I write juvenile fiction. I call what I do “Coming of Age” fiction because the stories always take place during an awkward or uncomfortable stage in the character’s lives.
As I’ve been working on this blog I’ve often wondered if the juvenile angst of my characters was starting to bleed through and show up in my posts. Then I realized that the angst I write about is indeed a manifestation of my own.
That means I’m still that 13-year-old girl with the weird triangle boobs. (Note to 13-year-old self, that changes.)
In fact everything changes but the angst stays the same. The term “coming of age” could be used during any phase of your life. Nobody told me that I was going to have to deal with this crap forever!
When I was a preteen and had hit my first awkward stage I just couldn’t wait to be a grown up and have all of this self-doubt behind me. Then I blossomed and was doing great until the next awkward phase came and then the next… and then the next.
I always come through a “phase” and find a place where I feel like I’ve got it all figured out. During these times I always think to myself, “if only I could just stay right here in this moment when I’m awesome then I could be happy“. But that’s not really how it works. Life isn’t stagnant and in order to get to that awesome stuff you have to suck for a while.
I guess you could call it growth.
I read somewhere that your nose and your ears never stop growing. At the same time your inner monologue seems to suffer from some sort of arrested developement. As I wrestle with school and raising kids and cleaning the house I always find myself wondering what I’m doing wrong that I just can’t be better at it all.
The truth is I’m not doing anything wrong, in fact I’m doing it all right. It’s called life and I’m simply living it.
Since I’m not feeling all that awesome at the moment my plan of attack is to just fake it ’til I make it.
P.S. I finally got a nice long run in… and a shower to boot.