Lately it’s been hard to focus on things around here.
I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to keep myself busy. Piling work upon work onto myself and trying to stay motivated enough to keep on top of it.
I am apartment searching since I’m going to be here a little more long term than I had planned.
I am commercial property searching and trying to find the perfect place to house my storefront development and
I am soul searching, trying to find a little bit of myself that I seem to have lost in the last few months.
Today I should find out if I get the funding for the storefront but, to be honest, it doesn’t matter anymore. With all that is/has been going on I need a new project to throw myself into and I’ve decided that this is it.
It isn’t mindless and it isn’t pointless – if the business budget has to be a little bit tighter for a little while for the greater good, then so be it.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been sick every single day since the little dude left. I have no voice but so much to say.
I can barely breathe let alone motivate myself to do something other than sit in front of the computer and work and let’s be honest, if I couldn’t move my work to the laptop and sit in bed for a little bit throughout the day I doubt I’d even get that much done.
All I’ve been able to eat is soup – even the thought of anything else makes me want to vomit. It’s very reminiscent of when I was pregnant with the little dude and lived on chicken noodle soup, toast with jam and mcdonalds cheeseburgers (the small plain ones, anything else just didn’t work for me.)
Plus, I’ve been guilt-ridden for the last 2 days.
I’m starting to think I’m losing my mind, really.
Grandma Z called to let me know that The Dad would be bringing the little dude home on Saturday morning instead of Monday afternoon.
My first thought: “you son of a bitch.”
Does that make me crazy?
Or maybe it’s a reflection of how stressed I’ve been feeling lately.
I don’t know.
And don’t get me wrong, it isn’t because I don’t want the little dude to come home early. I miss him like you wouldn’t believe – it’s been tough going to bed knowing he isn’t in his.
It’s because my immediate thought was that he is skirting his responsibilities again.
Without even thinking about it I told her that it was fine if he brought him home but my parents will be out of town for their anniversary (which they will be) and I will be away until Sunday night (which I won’t be) so he could bring him home Saturday morning but he would have to stay here until Sunday night.
Of course he immediately figured out that he could probably keep his commitment to his child. Of course.
I want my son to come home. I didn’t even want him to leave. So don’t get me wrong and assume that I don’t want him here – what I want is for The Dad to step up and be a man. Make a commitment to spend time with your child and keep it. Don’t pick him up 2 1/2 days late and bring him home 2 1/2 days early. That’s bullshit.
I have no patience for this today. Or any day lately.
I honestly feel like he’s making me lose my mind.