where wildly different is perfectly normal
Some days just ain’t worth gettin’ outta bed
Some days just ain’t worth gettin’ outta bed

Some days just ain’t worth gettin’ outta bed

You know the days; they usually start the night before. Poor sleep, brought on by stress or illness or a mind that just.won’t.shut.up.

A morning that is rushed because you overslept due to the poor sleep the night before. The coffee isn’t strong enough, even though you were the one who prepped it the night before. The kids aren’t moving, and because of their penchant for screwing around in the morning, are nearly late to school. Nearly late sucks; it just means they’ve learned exactly how long they can wait before dashing out the door. Truly late would involve a tardy slip from the office, which would be embarrassing beyond words for them, since we’re the closest freaking family to the school.

A volunteer stint in the 1st grade classroom, where you determine that all 1st grade boys either need to learn how to hold in the silent-but-deadlies or have a refresher on how to wipe.

A house completely devoid of afternoon caffeine, other than the bottomless mug of unsweetened green tea, which does nothing but send you to the loo every 22.5 minutes.

A deep dry-skin crack on a knuckle that is so painful it contributed to the previous night’s lack of sleep and the thought of “gangrenous amputation” keeps flitting through your mind.

An afternoon of baking gluten-free bread because the kids are sick of lunchmeat rollups in their lunches (not that they EAT THEIR LUNCHES), and of baking gluten-free/dairy-free/nut-free snacks for school that the boys will actually eat. You learn that you’re really not a fan of pumpkin, and the mere thought of Pumpkin Spice Latte makes you gag. Gourd coffee anyone?

Another day of too much to do, not enough kid-free time to do it. Another day of living in limbo in too many areas of your life. Another day of knowing that no matter what you do, it can’t ever be enough or done perfectly, because you set the bar too high. Another day of guilt for not doing more, or contributing more to the finances, so your husband can quit freaking out. Another day of feeling like you’re standing at a four-way stop with your head spinning, trying to decide which direction to take first, trying to take all four at once, and watching in amazed horror as you literally dismember yourself.

Another evening of homework battles to look forward to. Another evening of sibling wrestling and wailing and whining.

Another night of feeling like a failure because your high expectations were yet again trampled by reality. Another night of tossing and turning. Another night of poor sleep.

I don’t even want a Mulligan for today. I just want the day to end.


  1. Oh, Jen…no Pumpkin Spice Latte?!?! I could LIVE on it! Luckily, I love you enough to still want to be your friend! 😛

    Stop being so hard on yourself. I think most of us have days like these MOST of the time. 🙁 Not that that makes you feel any better, though, right?

    1. Jen

      The mere thought of gourd coffee makes me throw up a little in my mouth. I’m not a huge pumpkin fan; I have one piece of pie a year only because it ain’t Thanksgiving without it, but that’s it. Now…the Peppermint Mocha returns soon, and I will have to FORCE myself to not go every day.
      Hard on myself? Today was nuttin’. I’m a lot harder on myself than this. I’m just tired and overwhelmed and scared and want things to settle down for awhile. It’s been a long year.

  2. Benoit

    If we allow fear to be our master, our lives become a fear-driven cycle of avoiding what we do not want, rather than finding a way to create what we do want. (Brian Germain).

    Courage, Jen !

  3. Lori

    i had a friend suggest i start a barista stand at the bus stop (which happens to be right in front of my house).. perhaps my first offering will be, venti non-fat gourd latte.. hold the whip! 😉 chin up! You are not a failure.. you are my inspiration! sprinkles?

Whaddya think?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.