Life. Yuck.

This morning I am feeling extremely depressed.

I didn't want to get out of bed from the start. It was dark and I felt zero inclination to run around like a crazy person stuffing backpacks and skimming the refrigerator for something--anything--my daughter might consider eating for lunch. (I could have just packed a bag full of Halloween candy and spared myself considerable grief.) They have a Veteran's Day parade today so they need to wear something Patriotic but all Maya owns are clothes that are purple, pink or blue. The blue was okay. But the white and the red? Nowhere to be found. Plus I had to comment in Jordan's Reading Log (comment: "read independently"--do you like it?) and find shoes, socks, toothpaste, ponytail holders and a Sharpie pen to write on a Ziploc bag for Maya's lunch, since she seems to have lost her lunchbox. Then we had to rush out, in the near-dark, to barely catch the bus.

How in God's name did I get here? Looking ahead is like looking at the South Dakota prairie--so endless it seems to swallow me up. This is not what I wanted. I wanted to be free, to have adventures and a series of riveting experiences. Packing lunch is not a riveting experience. I promise you: it's not.

And the prairie grows yet wider when I consider all the facets of my stupid, mundane life. Yesterday I ran the dishwasher twice and still the sink is full of dishes. As usual, there is crap everywhere, that only I seem to be interested in returning to its rightful place. Soon I will have to depart from this thrilling post in order to go and clean an office space, because no life is complete without scrubbing two sets of pissy toilets. Then I have my Monday-morning volunteering in Jordan's classroom (I got roped into that one by some slick maneuvering on the part of his teacher). Then a bunch of other tedious chores.

I am so bored I could vomit. I work these weird split shifts that pretty much last all day, every day. I like my kids until they pester me one time too many and then I'm screaming and hissing (and cussing, too) because someone can't reach the toothpaste. I like my husband but most of the time we're just juggling schedules and obligations. I have no purpose. I have a life but it is not any life I planned.