Wednesday is trash pickup day around here. Taking the trash out is
one of my least favorite household chores.
Rob’s been doing it forever. I hadn’t taken it out in a couple of weeks. So it was a little piled up.
I really needed to be at work early today. I got home late last night and so I woke up late.
The girls got up late. As in. I woke them up three times before they actually got out of bed.
The third time I went back to their rooms I was beyond frustrated. Savannah had asked me to tell her when it was 630. I got her at 634 and she was upset. I possibly said something not very nice like I don’t have time to come get you up every 5 minutes every single morning.
I walked out to the kitchen. And started crying. All I could think was I can’t do this. I can’t keep up with work and home and be everything everyone needs me to be right now. I can’t sleep. I’m exhausted. I can’t focus. I just want to crawl back in to bed and not be a grown up for awhile.
Then I realized crying in my kitchen was doing nothing but making me even later than I already was.
I made the girls lunches and took Buddy out for the second time – because obviously he has a pregnant woman’s bladder.
Told the girls I loved them and headed out the door. And saw the trash cans lining all the driveways. Except mine.
And I wanted to stop right there and throw a tantrum because seriously. I had enough to do. I was late. And I still needed to take the stupid trash can to the curb. And it was overflowing with bags because I missed trash day last week. And also the dumb garage door spring that’s been broken since
time began last year still is broke and now it’s going to stay broke and it was cold and I had to find the garage door opener and stand there in the stupid driveway and push the garage door open and everything was stupid and I was mad and late. And mad. And late.
And those stupid tears started coming again. Tears I didn’t have time for. Tears that make me feel like a failure because seriously I need to snap out of this stupid fog my head has been in for a few weeks now and get myself together.
But they didn’t stop. I sat in my car in my driveway and they wouldn’t stop.
And I thought about what a baby I’m being because seriously a lot of people have it a lot worse than me and why can’t I just suck it up and be strong like I’m supposed to be.
I can take out the trash. I can open the garage door. I can get the girls up and ready for school and make it to work at a reasonable time. Eventually I’ll get caught up at work and not be a month behind on everything. At some point my crazy work schedule will ease up and life can go back to some semblance of a routine.
I took the trash out. The garage door got opened. And then closed. I’m still ridiculously behind at work but I made time today to honor an employee who just retired and checked a few things off my mile long to do list. I made it home by 730 and brought dinner home. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have time to actually cook. But. I fed my kids.
Now they’re in bed and I’m in my comfy spinny chair – it’s a thing. It really is. And apparently it’s time to cry again. The stupid trash can is still sitting at the end of my driveway. But it’s empty now. And eventually I’ll pull it back up and push the garage door open.
And tomorrow I’ll do this all again. And next weekend I have nothing to do and the girls will be at the Winter Retreat with our church so I can sleep in and do whatever I want. Or nothing at all. Or catch up on my work if I still have a job after getting so far behind.
All of the have to get dones are leaving me feeling overwhelmed. I know it’s going to get easier. I’ll figure out how to balance all of this soon.
Until then. Wednesdays are trash days. I have 6 more days until I have to roll the can back down to the curb again. I can do this.