Ya know – being the mother of 2 little girls, I live with drama on a regular basis. Being a drama queen myself, I have first hand experience with drama – and have for most of my life. I know it. I understand it. I even relish it at times.
However, I do NOT need more of it. Not from anyone else. Not anywhere else.
Yet, it piles up on me in every area of my life. School. Home. Family. Work. I do not NEED the extra drama in my life right now. My tolerance for drama is maxxed out with my 2 year old’s refusal to potty train (thereby increasing the number of outfits she wears daily, and the number of pull-ups we buy, etc.) and constructively dealing with intense reactions when she can’t watch “Racecars” for the 49th time (Disney’s movie, Cars), and the fact that my 7 month old got 2 teeth over the weekend. In a 48 hour period. And now she has defense weapons. It just. Got. Interesting.
I have a 10 page paper due Sunday night. Haven’t even started it. A 1-2 page journal article summary due by Sunday night. An online discussion board due by Thursday night.
I have endless amounts of dishes to wash. Baskets of laundry to put away. A bathroom that needs far more than a quick wipedown that I’ve managed to get away with every few days for the past two weeks. Daughters to read to, bathe, chase, pick up after, cuddle, love, discipline, ensure safety & security for. A husband to love, to talk with, to fight with, to be with. Parents and In-Laws with health issues.
The drama at work? Well, work used to be the place I could get away from it all. It isn’t anymore. I keep telling myself it’ll get better eventually. I keep telling myself that this is all ultimately meaningless and I shouldn’t let it affect me. I should just come in and do my job and go home. But I’ve invested myself in my work and enjoy what I’ve done for the past several years. THAT has always made it easier for me to justify working and being away from my daughters. Loving my work has made it better for me in many ways. Today – and for the past couple of weeks – I have enjoyed it less. It makes me sad. It makes me angry. I resent the intrusion in my life.
And somehow I have to find a way to let it go.