I don't know...I never know. Well, I know about half the time and the other half I literally stop in the middle of whatever room I'm in and shake my head at myself, take a breath and say out loud, "Sherry...start over. Chill. Out."
8:50 a.m. Did I remember to put money on my son's lunch account? Nope. I bet I forgot. Shit! He left his library book on the shelf. Do I have time to run it to the school? I think I can make it. Do I need to put money in my daughter's account? I want her to eat real food sometimes.
I worry about her while she's at college. She has so much going on. Can you see my underwear through my dress? Whatever. I'll have my uniform over it. I just won't take it off. These shoes kill my feet.
I think my spare flats are at work...I think. Where in the hell did THIS zit come from?! It hurts and looks like a tumor. I need to take care of myself. My hair is falling out, my skin is horrible, I've lost weight, the dark circles under my eyes are legit. Stress is the devil. Maybe I'll have time to give myself a facial. Maybe I'll have time for a relaxing bath. I'll plan it. We shall see. Did I make my credit card payment on time or did I miss it? I think it was due yesterday. Maybe they'll waive the late fee. I hate those. They're stupid.
9:00 a.m. Oh my god, I'm running late and I'm going to lose a point.
How am I late when I've been up for three hours? I didn't even pack a lunch. Awesome. I still have to take my son's book to the school. I hope I have time. What am I going to make for dinner...I forgot to take something out of the freezer.
Damnit! Taco Bell. That'll work. I'll be too tired to cook when I get home anyway.
I'm not off until 7:00. I wish I had a normal schedule.
I love my job but it's horrible on a family. Inconsistency is insanity. My house is such a mess. How did it get this way? I clean it all the time. Guess I'll do it on my day off. Crap, who can get my son off the bus? I forgot to ask anyone and I looked at my schedule wrong. I always do that. Ugh. It'd be easier if it was the same every day. I hope my mom's feeling okay. I hate asking her to keep him but she's my only real option. I need a job with normal hours. I'm failing as a mom. Failing. Hard. It makes my stomach knot up.
My daughter had me at home with her.
My son doesn't.
His school problems are my fault. I don't spend enough time with him. Evenings are chaos...half-ass controlled chaos. Can I start over? What is wrong with me and why did I f*** up so badly?
Why did I go to college? I'm not using those degrees.
I should've stayed where I was.
Maybe I'd have moved up in the company by now if I didn't leave 10 times. Oh yeah. I was a single mom. I thought I had to go to college to better myself.
Pffft. Got me pretty far, didn't it? I hope my son does okay at school today. I hope he can focus. He loves his classes and teachers. He gets embarrassed about it. I hate seeing him cry. I hope his medicine isn't making him feel weird. It helps him but I swore I'd never do it.
I hope I made the right choice by giving it to him. I don't want him to flunk. It helps with his grades, but will it hurt him long term? Having an EKG on him freaked me out. I know he's okay because the doctor said so, but now that's stuck in my head. I hope he has a lot of friends.
He tells me he does. He also tells me he thinks he's not "cool" because he doesn't have a girlfriend yet. I tell him how handsome he is. He looks right in my face and says, "No I'm not, mom." My heart hurts. I hate this age. I remember it.
I want it to be better for him than it was for me.
It was hard for me.
9:10 Okay...I think I've got this. I can get to the school and be at work on time. Shit! I totally forgot I needed gas. Of course I forgot. I can probably make it until my drive home. Guess we'll see.
I hope work isn't crazy. I hope we have coverage and people aren't rude. I'm so sick of "rude," I'm beginning to dislike humanity in general. Everyone is so entitled and needs to grow some patience.
I'm not even kidding a little bit. I wish I ate breakfast. I'm starving.
Cheez-Its and Snickers again it is. Thank God for vending machines.
9:30 I have a few minutes before I need to go in so I can sit here in my car, finish my coffee and chillax for a few. Why do I worry so much? Why am I like this?
I wasn't always like this. I want calm. I want peace. I want to stop freaking out in my head and stop having to put on that fake "I've got my shit together" mask.
Sometimes I really do and sometimes I don't at all. I've had anxiety issues for 16 years now. I don't want it.
I'm over feeling panicky all the time.
I'm over feeling like a frazzled, spazzed out mom. I'm over taking medicine for it.
I'm over it, period.
I always want to feel normal and you know what?
For as abnormal and odd as I feel like I am, I'm pretty sure all of this...crap...is the normal for more people than just me. It doesn't make me feel any better or lessen anything but... Normal really is just a setting on the dryer. I looked.