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When my soul is weary, my sanity is weak

I’m only week one into Hellmonth and I’m weary, y’all.  I’m tired.  I’m stressed.

It’s all going to be over soon, right?  Right.  I can do this, right?  Right.

I know I can. 

But nights like last night, when I walk in the door at 10:00 and there’s grading to be done and I’m freezing and I’m tired and my legs ache and my eyes are itching make me want to throw in the towel and just say “To hell with all of this.”  Thinking about the upcoming weekend and knowing I won’t be home until 11:00 and then thinking about the following week of practice and the competition beyond that one and the practicing and the blood, sweat, and tears? Yeah, the hands are flying in the air, attempting to wave the white flag.  My voice is on the point of yelling “I surrender!”

But I won’t. I know I wont. I can do this.

I know I can. 

That’s my motto. 

I’m like the little curvy Miranda who could.

I feel like I’m in a funk with my classes. The freshmen are getting on my nerves. The juniors don’t take anything seriously. 

Maybe I’m just easily irritated.  

The one saving grace I have each day:  my family.

Without Joshua and Dan? Well, I’m glad I’m not without them.

Joshua was super cranky before dinner tonight. Super cranky.  After dinner? Heaven.  HEAVEN!

We played, we laughed, we climbed, we laughed some more.  He figured out how to unlock the iPhone and he toddled around the house speaking his little baby language and exploring and growing and learning.  He played in the bathtub.  I heard him laughing with his Daddy while Dan was putting him to bed.

We were happy.  My heart was happy.  My soul was happy.  I wish I could bottle that happy up and save it for the weary moments of my day.


Three more weeks. I can do this.

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