Fried

I was informed this week that I haven’t been a positive person for the past several months. Why it took that long for this conversation to take place–and why someone is keeping score–is unknown.

I’ll admit that there’s a grain of truth to this person’s observations. The instances cited by the individual are pretty petty and immature…but there is a seed of truth. I can–and do–admit that.

If others have noticed my less than positive demeanor, they either haven’t said anything, or they understand the place out of which I currently operate and don’t bother.

For those of you who know me well, you know–and understand as much as you can–that my life is a circus. It is stressful. And I am tired…nay…exhausted. And fried. In a State Fair fried candy bar/Twinkie/Coke/butter sort of way. Consequently, I don’t have the energy to keep my filter in tact. I have a lower toleration threshold, and consequently a greater propensity for frustration.

Quite frankly, folks, it’s all I can do to get out of bed most days.

But I do. I keep showing up. I keep trying to laugh and smile and do my job–as a wife, mother, daughter, friend, student, adviser, cook and bottle washer. I try to be encouraging and see past the end of my nose.

For those of you who have recently experienced otherwise (and I hope that is a LOW number), please accept my apology. I am trying. More than that, I’m looking forward to a winter break with not a lot of work and HUGE amounts of rest and time with family.

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One thought on “Fried

  1. If you were being so negative that you interfered with the positivity of those around you, I’d let you know. But I haven’t experienced that. I have seen the witty, funny, honest Mary I know. The other day Bill said that some semesters are working semesters and some semesters are thinking semesters – he was referring to research productivity. But I think he forgot that there are also survival semesters. I think this is one of those for you. Just a few more weeks of survival and you can move to a new and different semester.

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