I can’t keep up.
My Facebook feed goes by faster than my highway reading speed.
I only get to Twitter once in a while. Usually I forget Twitter altogether. I find it again like a favorite pair of pants that I’m surprised still fit. I scroll through and find things to read and get distracted by tangents so I am never quite up to date. News breaks on Twitter, but I always seem to be a few days behind, filling in details to passing headlines I’ve seen.
It’s okay. My life is not social media. Klout has never kept me up at night.
I have a hard time reading every post in my WordPress reader. I’m glad it’s summer as the volume will slow a bit. I can read a post that leaves me inspired, feeling creative, and way over-estimating my abilities. Sure I’m funny, I say to myself. Listen to this… I will type out a few lines, a fragment that holds together like dry sand. I lack delivery, I diagnose my failing. I do wish I could write more. I’m lacking some of the necessities for this – time, space, content. My blog excites me, but leaves me frustrated that “publish” doesn’t go down like a comforter.
I am distracted by life. I’ve been flying solo parent airlines the last 10 days. This is my contribution to the triumvirate of life-altering professions including rocket science and brain surgery. We didn’t do any homework. The kids ate a lot more pasta than I would usually tolerate or encourage. But we did have some quality time together, we all got to school/work, and no one called the police out of desperation.
I have struggled with personality challenges at work. Some underlying tensions of the last few months finally came to a head. It was an unexpected explosion stemming perceived feelings of victimization. I have a hard time understanding people who won’t change, but will complain about it. Then again, I am one of those people. I have a hard time understanding people who won’t change and blame others for their personal lack of flexibility. The world does not have a black and white rulebook, no matter how hard we try to force this on others. Being a martyr is a circular road with no company.
With my co-worker leaving, a friendship that I had valued and appreciated for years was officially finished. It degraded months ago but when someone leaves for the last time without even saying goodbye, the message is still received across the silence.
I didn’t realize how stressed I’d been feeling until I woke up today. Today was the first day I woke up without grinding my teeth. Today was the first day I did not dread going to work.
That’s good progress.
How are y’all?