Can I Live?

I feel like Im constantly navigating different worlds.  That soccer mom-make-his-favorite-thing-for-dinner-drop-him-off-at-school-read-to-him-at-night world.  That I-already-have-10-friends-and-only-have-room-for-another-half-friendship-in-my-life-and-then-you-showed-up-all-cool-and-shit world.  That I-am-the-best-event-planner-ever world.  That I-work-for-a-dope-start-up-in-SF-with-crazy-hours-and-crazy-perks-and-crazy-bosses-world.

There’s a whole lot of other worlds I don’t fuck with because I’ve only got so much time and so many heartbeats. Can I live?  Actually, can I live with an assistant?

This is my life.

There aren’t enough things that get my full attention in the day, as I’m trying to do it all at once.  Multi-tasking is ruining my life, or saving it.  I can’t tell. When I do get the few and far between moments that require me to do absolutely NOTHING, I don’t know what to do with myself.  I feel as awkward as my best friend in a room full of hot guys.  (If you know her, you know the pain of witnessing that).

Sometimes my single, childless, void-of-responsbility friends want to have intelligent conversations about politics, and music, and you know, important shit that happens in the world.  Most of the time I’m up for it, but SOMETIMES i’m in the middle of signing report cards, writing checks for martial arts, editing marketing copy, having a heart to heart over g-chat and booking my next flight that I’m living in my own world totally checked out to things that aren’t my life.

So I’m sorry I can’t be a person right now. Actually, fuck it, I’m not all that sorry because instead of being a person, I’m being a mother, a friend, a lover, and the best godamn social media marketer you’ve come across today.  This isn’t a bitch face, I just call it my face

I am never not working in one of my worlds, and that’s ok with me.  My brain is always on, and there are mountains growing in my shoulders and in the worlds in front of me.  But I’m moving them.  Please believe.

And as my brain tries to wrap itself around the fact that I’m going to be in a 32-degree city for my birthday, but making sure to be back in time for Christmas Gift Exchange with my girls —  my cell phone makes a sound I recognize as an emergency at work.  I turn that fucker on silent, and I remind myself to send out invitations for my son’s 6th birthday (holy shit, he’s getting old) I try on a dress I just got in the mail, because ain’t NOBODY got time to shop offline, and that same almost-6-year-old walks in and says, “Mommy, I like your dress.  You look beautiful.”  

All that shit goes quiet in my head.  And here I am.  This is my life.

I love it all.  Especially that last part.

 

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One comment

  1. Pingback: BRB. | Raaachem.com

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