Stuck

I can write almost anywhere -strolling through the memorial rose garden on my near daily treks, rinsing  Herbal Essence Long Term Relationship conditioner in my almost daily showers, chopping onions for a salad, sitting on the river bank watching Einstein fly fish. That's when I produce some of my best work.

I write detailed descriptions, raise important questions and reflect on past experiences. Sometimes I am snarky and amusing and other times serious and searching.  My writing is raw and honest and scary and heartbreaking and I often end up with a few tears gliding down my cheeks. My words are larger than life and yet incredibly minute.

I cannot seem to write in the places that matter.  At the keyboard. In my Important Notebook. On a clipboard. I cannot make my words concrete. I'm unable to give meaning to my experiences-my heartaches and my joys.

I am paralyzed by my laptop keyboard, by my Papermate Retractable blue ink pen.

I can't get these words out of my head.

They are stuck and so am I.

Lacking

I am shocked it took me this long to figure things out. To realize what is missing in my life.

Our cross country move was a mixed blessing. It was heartbreaking and difficult to leave our friends and family behind, but to be reunited as a family was amazing. It felt like we were finally putting the pieces of the puzzle back together. The first few weeks were spent unpacking, exploring and navigating life with two parents. I've been doing it alone for so long it was both a relief and a challenge to share the day to day parenting.

After the novelty of being together and being in a new place wore off we have just been getting by. We haven't met anyone and it is DESPERATELY lonely. I'm sick of fighting the kids to sign up for art class, or Lego Robotics or day camp or even to go to the mall. It's not worth the drama. It seems they are dead set on being homebodies.

I'm working but since our program is just getting off the ground I don't have many responsibilities.  Most of what I do is extremely flexible, with no deadlines so I sit around in my pjs reading curriculum at midnight.

Right now, I rarely have to go to my office and if I do it's usually whenever I feel like going in. I'm use to being in a classroom of twenty-two at-risk three to five year olds where there was never a dull moment, where I only sat during circle time and lunch. If I was lucky everyone napped, there weren't any pod meetings and I might have the chance to write anecdotal notes and complete developmental assessments. So this, what I'm doing right now, it doesn't feel like work to me.

I am in desperate need of a sense of purpose and a sense of accomplishment. Now that I know what I'm looking for how do I find it?

Not giving Up

My back ached from tweaking it on Saturday. Alternating ice, heating pad and Tylenol barely took the edge off. My stomach felt like a tiny, evil leperchaun had smuggled in a gigantic balloon and overfilled it with air. I was irritated and phone-less thanks to a leaking water bottle. I didn't have a fighting chance yesterday.

I was frustrated about some minor work things that became enormous problems in my mind. I missed a Skype session I knew nothing about and missed meeting up with a co-worker for an appointment. I was convinced she left me because I was two minutes late. I was certain that she was making it her mission to sabotage me.

I later learned that she was FIFTEEN minutes late. I was sick to my stomach thinking what a horrible impression I must be making in my six week career here. All of this because my phone shorted out and I was waiting for Verizon to overnight me a new one.

I ended the day in tears over who knows what and was all set to wallow in my self pity. Einstein wasn't going to let that happen though. He rummaged through a box (one of many that still needs to be unpacked) until he came across striped George.

He cleared his throat, tapped me on the shoulder and said "Based on extensive research my esteemed associate and I have a word of advice for you. Go to bed when we do so you aren't cranky and crying!"

While I didn't go right to bed, I did manage to get eight blissful hours of sleep. I woke up today thinking of all the things that are going right, all the things that make me happy.

Sometimes, all you need is advice from a monkey in pajamas and your oldest son.

How do you snap out of a bad day when all you want to do is wallow in a sea of slef pity?