This week has Kicked. My. Butt.
I’m not talking about your average, run-of-the-mill, short-term butt-kicking. I’m talking about nearly a week’s worth of stress-induced, anxiety-laden, sleep-deprived, frustrating, often tearful minutes that crawled by as if they were hours instead of sixty-second increments. To say out loud that it’s “been a tough week” seems ridiculous to me because it’s such a massive understatement.
The cause: too many moving parts in my life, many of which are currently out of my control.
At my lowest point earlier in the week, I sobbed heavily into Jim’s arms, stating rather dramatically that I just don’t know why I can’t be a “normal person who doesn’t enjoy juggling so many things at once.” The sad truth is, I don’t think I know how to live otherwise.
That truth always leads to my eventually digging myself out. This time happened to take days longer than it usually does, but I’m almost there. Throughout it all I count my blessings—my family, my friends, my life—and I repeat to myself that everything always works out just fine. When things aren’t resolved the way I’d like them to be, I happen to be pretty good at making lemons out of lemonade once I have a chance to shift gears.
So that’s what I’m reflecting on today, a Friday that I thought would never arrive but—just like the sun every morning—did. I’m focusing on what’s important, what I can control, and a couple of much-needed victories I had yesterday. Those things are what will carry me through, onward and upward, and right back to my normally optimistic self.