Yo Yo

The weekend was awful. I didn't sleep, I couldn't function and I snapped at everyone and everything.

I started to cry when Himself thought letting Baby Girl eat "krispies" (rice krispies) off a plate on the floor was a good idea - resulting in rice krispies all over the living room.

I forgot Father's Day and made DH get up with Baby Girl so I could bury my head in the pillow and forget about getting up and having to teach an incredibly spiritually draining lesson on Sunday.

Yesterday brought some calm, some of that giddy "I get to play with my kid" feeling I knew existed somewhere. I gleefully fled the office after my requisite 4 hours, not looking back.

Today, I'm back in a funk, realizing how much I hate being at The Factory. I hate the patronizing assurances of "that's so great you're working part-time this summer!" and the fact that I now sit at the front desk, completely isolated from the rest of the team. The fall from grace has been quick and furious, and I just want out - to the point I just sent my college-aged brother on an errand to his CEO (with whom he has a personal, non-work relationship) with my resume for a job they have - in a town 250 miles away from The Frontier.

For those of you who have heard me swear never to move any closer to my hometown, hold me back now. Remind me I'm insane.

If one more person tells me I should be happy to have more time to sleep, I think my sleep-deprived brain will trigger a crying episode. I wish I could figure out how to feel. I wish I could feel better about working part-time, but the expenses all stay the same - my commute, the cost of the sitter (to whom I now owe a $50 late fee because I forgot to pay her after last Friday's debacle) - all the same. I wish I could sleep at night. That part is no worse or no better, but it a decade of chronic sleep issues combined with anxiety and a new baby have meant it is a minor miracle if I sleep more than 2 or 3 hours at a time.

Forget yo-yo dieting, this yo-yo emotional stuff is for the birds.