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I took a few days off from writing on the ol' bloggity blog. I needed to recharge my batteries.

I wish I could say that it worked

On Friday, I learned that 2 of the 3 jobs that I have applied for have been offered to other applicants. I knew it was dicey. I knew there was a very slim chance that I would be selected to stay with the company. I have expected to be told that I was not what they were looking for. 

But expecting and reality are two different things. To be told that you are not good enough, that you are not what they were looking for - well, it stings. It feels a lot like a break up. And, as much as you want to be vindictive and awful, it's just not the right thing to do. 

I am sitting in my office, facing a world of change that I am uncertain of how to navigate. And I am scared. 

On Saturday, the Scare Bear and I packed up our kids and headed out for a day of exploring and adventure. In that time, in that moment, I relished in the fact that my (unfurry) legs were catching some sun in shorts, that my weary bones were traveling through trails, that the biggest concerns were the slippery stairs going into the caverns and the mosquitoes that were intent on carrying off Z to feed upon. 

And since I wore the right shoes and brought bug repellent - they were barely concerns at all.

We talked, laughed, and trudged ahead following the squealing sprinters as they made the way through the woods and the caves. It was a good day. 

But, as it has in the past, the weight of my reality began to weigh me down again as we made our way back home. I was sore, I was tired, I needed to shut down.

A momma never really can.

Z, fresh off a nap, was excited and raring to go when we arrived home. She talked incessantly, demonstrating over and over how she can climb and navigate the back of the couch, the precarious bridge that she made with chairs and the coffee table. 

I begged, I pleaded, but it was no use, the girl would not go to bed.

And the momma, so disconnected from everything (out of necessity), slumped down onto the couch, grabbed a book and tried to ignore the yelling, the crashing, the whining, in order to obtain a small sense of sanity. 

I wish it worked that way. I need it to work that way. 

I need to not feel like crying. I need to not feel like a reject. I need to not have mysterious stress induced eczema cropping all over my face. I need to find me again, not just momma, but ME.

I am sorry for the melancholy. I am sorry for being the "Debbie Downer". I have ideas for the future, I have some greatness coming my way, but right now, today, I need to heal.

And I won't apologize for that.