Wide Load

I lost it yesterday.  Not in a flight-attendant-meltdown way, but in an I’m-so-exhausted-I-can’t-see-straight way.  I think I’m simply trying to do too much and I’m breaking down due to the wide load.

Working full-time while caring for an infant is challenging enough, but I want to get back into kick-ass shape, too, so exercise is a must.  The past few weeks I’ve been focused on achieving that goal, working out to Jillian Michaels and Slim-in-6 dvds at least five days a week.  (Once the desert summers begin to cool, I’ll start jogging again.)  It’s working because I fit back into my pre-pregnancy clothes- mostly.  My jeans and cropped khaki’s are still too snug for my liking, but technically they fit, so I’m close.  Not to mention I’ve been watching every morsel of food that touches my lips.  Eating healthier and eating less food has been much easier since I’ve been grinding half of my meals up for Maya to eat, which happens to be one more thing I’ve decided to take on recently.  It sounds so simple, grind the meal, but right now it’s time-consuming. 

And I’m trying to write a screenplay.  I won’t even start on that one.

These things, full-time work, exercise, eating healthy, writing a screenplay, are difficult enough when it’s just you.  One single person.  Add an eight month-old precocious girl into the mix and you have a mountain of a challenge.  This massive challenge kicked my butt yesterday and while doing dishes over my lunch hour (so as to wash and dry in peace), I lost it.  I sobbed.  Shoulder shaking, can’t-catch-your-breath, sobs.  I had a morning of “poor me”, sent off a crisp email to my ex (not a nasty note, mind you, but brutally honest and probably not entirely necessary [and to which he replied with a most generous and apologetic nature, {thanks, you}]), and cried over spilt ultra-concentrated dishwashing liquid.

Did I feel better after cutting loose?  I don’t know.  I felt drained, like some of the pent-up anxious energy departed my body, but I can’t really say that I felt better.  I do feel better today, but I’m beginning to wonder if I’m simply trying to take on too much while being a single mom.  I know other women can do it, but maybe I’m just not to that point yet.  Maybe I need to cut myself some slack if I don’t meet all of my goals exactly when I expect to. 

Aye. 

Why are we always so hard on ourselves?  I wouldn’t be this hard on a friend, so why do I expect so much from me?

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