Well I made it 33 days without a total meltdown. I had some bitchiness issues a couple weeks ago, but this morning was full blown tantrum mode. Let’s recap shall we?
We moved this past weekend. Which basically means we’ve been packing and moving for the past week. That in itself is enough to make anyone curl up in the fetal position, but couple that with late LATE nights packing, and early EARLY morning workouts and you’ve got a volcano just waiting to explode.
Last night we worked out and then headed over to our old place to finish more packing, hauling and moving. We got to the condo at 6:15 and worked straight until about 9:00pm. All of this after our hard workout and just general exhaustion from the week. I was getting so hungry my stomach was cramping. After a few hours of pure torture we ate dinner drove back home only to find there were no parking spaces near our house. We live in downtown Denver, and have off street parking and at 9:30ish at night, it’s nearly impossible to find decent parking. We had to park about 3 blocks away. Strike One
This morning is when the fun starts… that was just a little teaser. Here’s where the crazy train really get’s a movin’. 4:30 the alarm goes off. I spring out of bed to try and avoid the mental gymnastics of convincing myself to get up. I’ve been dreading today because I knew it meant an early wake up followed by a full day of moving and packing until the wee hours of the night. I have to get as much done as I can today because tomorrow I leave for Phoenix for some photo shoots. So we get up, get dressed… I brush my teeth (fool me once, shame on you toothbrush, fool me twice shame on me) and head out the door. We get in our freezing car only to realize it needs to be scraped down. Strike Two. I’m obligated because I have the heavier jacket. I get out and scrape the windows and am immediately pissed off. It’s not even 5:00 am yet. Strike Three. We get to the gym and start our cardio. About 5 minutes in I get a massive stomach ache and spend the next 7 minutes in the bathroom (yes I timed it) I’m on a schedule in the mornings… gotta keep on track. So then I get back on the bike (7 minutes behind schedule) Strike Four.
We’re done with the workout and head back home. We have to circle the block a couple times and search for more parking because our old space was too tight to get back into. We find a spot and try to shimmy in but it doesn’t work and we bump the car behind us. I get frustrated with Scott when he can’t parallel park perfectly on the first try. I know this is ridiculous because you can be a great parker (like yours truly) and still make mistakes. I mean not me I never make mistakes, but theoretically I understand the concept of making parking mistakes. So then Scott gets angry because I’m being sort of rude about the whole thing. He had every right to get upset, I was not on my A game this morning. We argue about parking for another good 5 minutes and then the volcano burst and I started crying. I just yelled out “I’m SO OVER THIS.” But I think I may have said the F word about 7 times. I can’t be sure. I think I also yelled something to the effect of, I’m stressed, exhausted, sore, tired, exhausted, stressed and sore! As soon as I let it out I felt better. Then I went upstairs to take a shower and seriously contemplated just crawling back into bed afterwards.
Instead I relaxed in the shower, told myself to get my shit straight and carried on with getting ready. Then I went down stairs, made myself some eggs and a piece of this awesome home made whole wheat toast and sat down. As I stood there with my eggs and frownie face, Scott made a funny face and told me I looked thinner and he was noticing. Thank God for that good man. Even if he doesn’t park perfectly…