when i walked in the door, after a short cab ride home, i dropped my bag, mumbled hello to roomie, shuffled down the hall to my bedroom and took off my coat.
then i leaned against the wall and cried like i haven't since my mom died.
i'm so tired. so very very tired. i'm tired of putting other people's needs in front of my own. i'm tired of thinking about what's good for the ceo, the firm and the practice instead of what's good for me. i'm tired of planning someone else's day instead of my own. i'm tired of having nothing left for myself at the end of the day. i'm tired of watching my dusty To Do list get even dustier. i'm tired of the niggling thought that i will never make this plan of mine happen.
i'm tired especially of being the good girl, of doing the right thing for everyone else and it's patently clear it's not good for me. i'm tired of knowing that Hugh has come for a 3 month long visit because i've been stressed out my ass for the past 5 months. i'm particularly tired of the fact that a fucking job has made me cry while crammed into the corner of my very filthy bedroom - a bedroom that wouldn't be so filthy if i had some fucking time to clean it.
i'm tired that i can't think of the last time there wasn't this knot at the top of my shoulders, that my feet didn't hurt, that my back wasn't stiff, that i was truly indolent and relaxed. i'm tired that i can't remember the last time i was content and satisfied. i'm tired dammit.
and if this girl doesn't get a rest soon, her head just might pop like it did in 1992.
5 comments:
Awwww, sweetie. I wish I could come over and fix you dinner while you put your feet up. I'd even do the dishes :)
(Can you call in sick?)
i sent a petulant email saying i had things to do so i was coming in the afternoon. which i did.
i feel really good. i'm coming in tomorrow afternoon, as well. just in time for my party.
and you wouldn't even have to do the dishes - just load them! and then we could drink some wine and laugh and laugh...
sigh. now i'm thinking about roast chicken.
Mmm, chicken. With garlic cloves inside the cavity, right? And then you dig them out before serving and spread 'em on toast.
yes. we should do this. immediately. i'll 'make' the chicken, you bring the fellini, and my roomie will make the cocktails. then we'll sit, gossip, eat, smoke, drink and then plan on doint it again tomorrow night.
can i come, too, huh? huh? i wanna come, too!
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