I dream it, I work hard, I grind ’til I own it

It should be a Metric Monday.

But I haven’t been keeping stats.

I haven’t been writing.

And I haven’t been eating particularly healthy.

So here is a different set of stats.

Days since I quit my job: 268

Pounds I’ve lost since then: -6. Yeah I gained six pounds.

Hours in therapy: 22 at least.

Panic Attacks: 1?

Healthy recipes tried: quite a few actually

But where does this leave me? And what have I been DOING?

Feeling bad, trying to feel better.

Feeling guilty for quitting, contemplating going back.

Trying to convince myself housewife is an important job title and to be proud of doing housework.

Fighting with my child. Fighting my own tendencies and bad habits.

Napping.

Oh and FREAKING THE ‘F’ OUT about this election. I can’t stop checking the news for the next INSANE bit of ass-clowning to be uncovered. It’s a train wreck.

And I’m rubbernecking.

So I therefore have no time to write or clean the bathroom. Sorry.

But lately this Beyonce song is going through my head on nonstop repeat. Like all the time. Particularly ‘albino alligators’ at odd times.

I think I’ve listened enough that I’m finally pumped up.

“I see it, I want”

I finally have picked a path. No more torturing myself on what SHOULD I be doing. SHOULD I go back to teaching. SHOULD I be reading up on education issues and secretly planning how to save the world.

No. I had a revelation yesterday. I saw a job post out in my old district and was tempted to apply.

But then I started considering what that would mean for my family and our life and shit actually getting done.

And I realized I am actually really freaking important to my family in the role I am in right now. I take care of so much crap for them. Not to mention I actually get to be less stressed and be the rock of the family. I used to tell the hubby I couldn’t be his rock, but maybe a pile of rubble he could rest on.

But now I’m a ROCK.

That feels pretty damn good.

I realized I am not doing things perfectly or consistently, but that the baby steps I’ve been taking towards a healthier life are super good for my family. I am actually important to my family.

Which should be pretty obvious, but it’s not always to low self-esteem girl over here.

So I feel pumped.

Pumped to tackle my role as housewife not just because it was the consequence of quitting, but because I really want to do good by me and my family.

Pumped to lose the stupid extra six pounds I gained and then even more.

Pumped to work hard and make a difference in my life. And then the world around me.

Pumped to “grind ‘til I own it.”