When Being A Grown Up’s Not All It’s Cracked Up To Be

Yesterday morning I woke up excited and raring to go and thought, hoorah, I’ve reached one of my goals (to wake up excited and raring to go).

This morning I woke up feeling low and spent most of the morning tempted to go back to bed.

“How did that happen?” I hear you ask.

Well . . . I received an email late yesterday afternoon. After reading it I felt like my wrists had been well and truly slapped. Tears came to my eyes and I just wanted to go and hide in a corner. I’d been doing so well . . .

This morning I tried to process why I had such a strong reaction to those particular words. I watched Byron Katie videos. I read inspiring works. I wrote “in my head”. I was transported back to a memory of an incident when I was about 5 or 6, whose theme I seemed to have replayed over and over in my life. And I sobbed. I mean really sobbed.

But, so what? Sobbing didn’t change anything. (Felt good though). And it wasn’t a new insight so I didn’t reach a new level of understanding.

So I hung out in the misery until I thought “sod this for a game of soldiers”. **** it! Who want’s to be a grown up anyway? Whereupon I reached for the Pringles, turned on a DVD and showed a finger to the world.

And now I feel great. I’ve got my cappuccino, my son will be home from school shortly, tonight is a family night that I’m really looking forward to.  The angst will just bloody well have have to wait.

I’m playing.