I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar (...to cover my exhaustion, of course)

How many times have you woken up and thought, "Just ten more minutes...what I would give for ten more minutes"? How about those mornings and you wake up only after having slept for five minutes when in reality it was six hours? Those mornings are the pits. When we were all school aged, we wished for snow days all the time because there is something magical about sleeping in on a weekday, an unscheduled weekday at that. I always enjoyed it when I found out really early, like at 5 a.m., on that school day. Those were the days when I had anticipated going to school and doing the morning gettin-ready routine, but instead my mom would whisper that I could stay asleep...best.news.ever! Now, as a teacher, that news can  be either angels singing or the devil's curse...all depends on when the EOCs are scheduled. Anyway, my point is those mornings were treasured. Those are the few times when God gave us, the students, the gift of time. You cannot even begin to tell me that you didn't have one of those days where you worked furiously like a lab rat trying to find the cheese in order to complete an assignment or prepare for a test. We learn that when given the opportunity, take it, and snows days were there for the taking. Unlike today's day...

Now, we're adults (what? that's crazy. I refuse to believe it or model it!) Snow days just mean bundle up and get to work, but good luck trying to find a sitter for your child because school just got cancelled. Am I right? There have been a few days when it seems the whole county has shut down for snow, all except for the Waffle House, of course. Oh, the Waffle House, the amazing Waffle House, the house of waffles and hashbrowns for which we rely on to serve us during the most dangerous blizzards, when returning from the latest away PHS football games, and probably after any nuclear war because there is not anything that can be done to take down the Waffle House...if we go under attack, that is where I recommend you take refuge. (I love their pickles!!!) Sorry, I almost forgot where I was going with this...it's just, there's not a Waffle House out here...waffle stands are everywhere you look, and I hear they're amazing, but there's something about the place mat with all of the pictures and words like "scattered, smothered, and chunked" to describe a dish...and their pickles, are you kidding me? Where do they get those pickles? They are the ones who taught me to put pickles on my bacon, egg, and cheese...okay, that's enough, I swear this post is not about the Waffle House...(and now, I'm slightly pouting...sad face...)

Oh yeah, I was talking about how at once we were given the gift of time in our youth and those turned out to the best of days because regardless how you spent it, you still had a break from the everyday grind. For the first time in my life, I do not have three jobs. That absolutely blows my mind and I barely know how to feel about it. I mean, I am totally adjusting to this housewife gig, but there are so many times where I feel like I should be somewhere, but there's really no where I am suppose to be but here...weird. Even though I have been given all of this time that I have never had ever, I still feel the need to fill it with something semi productive, and you know me well enough to know that means going to the gym. I've made it a goal to go to the gym for four hours a day because that's the amount of time I was getting in back in the states. Plus, from the subway station to, just to, the gym is 1.75 miles (my husband just calculated it for me) and if I'm going to walk that much, then I should make my time worth it. So, I finally have a schedule! But what happened after a few weeks of that schedule? I wanted a day off, or two days off, do I dare say three...eeeeeek. I woke up, had coffee with my husband, and told him that I just didn't feel like going to the gym that day. He said what every husband would say, and the thing they are suppose to say, "Then don't, just take a day to relax." Those words just seemed so simple coming from him: "a day to relax." Ha, relax? I wish! Because these were the thoughts that were going through my head when trying to decide what I was going to do:

"I can just go ahead and go the gym. The clothes are right there, you'll feel better when you're done. Just go ahead because if I don't, I'll get upset. I'll feel awful all day. I'll look at the clock and think what I would have already had done by that hour. I'll think about all the miles I didn't cover. I'll feel so guilty that I won't be able to relax. My guilt will turn into anxiousness, my anxiousness turns into sleepyness, sleepyness turns into a nap, a nap turns into waking up angry, waking up angry turns into raging grumpyness, raging grumpyness turns into self bullying, self bullying turns into self medicating, self medicating turns into snacking randomly in the kitchen, snacking randomly in the kitchen turns into fit pitching, fit pitching turns into self loathing, self loathing turns into mirror staring, mirror staring turns into pinching, sucking, and prodding, pinching, sucking, and prodding turns into sobbing... " and at the end of this crazy cycle, my amazing husband walks through the door expecting to find his wife bouncing around the house with a great big smile across her face because she just had the whole day to relax. Instead, he walks in the door to find me, sitting at the counter with my head in my hands, tears in my eyes, and I don't want to be touched, or talked to, or loved, because who could ever love a big, lazy, worthless, invalid like myself!!! I'll then cry and make big deals about everything for the rest of the evening...like telling him that he could do better, or accussing him of thinking some girl on the internet is hot...all because I chose not to go to the gym. That is ridiculous!

Whatever happened to that love we once had for snow days and getting that time off? Why couldn't I relax like I had intended? Why did I spend all day with my abusive inner-fat kid? I blame three things: estrogen, Jennifer Aniston (her perfection drives me crazy), and internet pop-up adds (it's like they know you didn't go to the gym). The next morning, I went to the gym, and I worked it super-duper hard, but during my long haul there, I forced myself to think about how I spent the previous day. It was my choice to stay home, my choice, and do you know what else is my choice? My feelings on staying home. I didn't have to feel guilty; I chose to, like everyone who is reading this right now. You know you do the exact same thing. We are terrified to take the day off from something, especially working out. I promise, a day off is ten times better than going everyday. Give your muscles time to remember their purpose; we put them under so much abuse that they retaliate with debilitating soreness. There are more times where I have to use the handicap bathrooms because of the side handrails instead of the others...my legs will just give out. Anyway, I decided that I will no longer feel guilty for taking some Abigail time. And I know some of you are like, "Well, going to the gym is my (insert name here) time; that's the time away from all of my house duties." I agree, working out is great if that's what you use as your release, but as soon as it feels like an obligation, breathe! Go get your toes did, girl!

As women, we keep ourselves wound up so tightly that we think that's the only way to function, that if we give our bodies or our minds an inch, they'll take a mile. So what if they do? You're still in control. You owe it to yourself for your day off to be a day off, do not ruin it with guilt. I am actually using that same philosophy right now while eating a cinnamon biscuit...I am enjoying it and I refuse to ruin it with guilt. In fact, I'll have more after this one (who am I kidding? you know there's already more than one on this plate). So, again I stress to you to not run your life with guilt; it's not fair to you, nor is it fair to your family. My husband walking into the house to find me ready to kill the creator of weightwatchers is nothing he deserves. Figure out what those moments are that use to be enjoyable but now feel like a task and fix it...take a day off...go to the Waffle House. I promise everything will be okay. I mean, look at Superwoman, she even took days to get her hair done...

*Side note: Please note that despite the amount of time I go to the gym, I love to eat. I'm heavier than ever, but I have a healthy heart! So when you see me and my lumps, my lovely lady lumps, don't think of me as a liar about working out...I can still stomp you.