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| Caregivers know how easy it is to get exhausted |
Yesterday, I dumped grumpiness in the dirt and spiraled into pure unadulterated bitch. Lack of sleep over the last few nights culminated in fatigue wrought crankiness that spewed out in tone of voice and body language. My attitude, to put it bluntly, sucked—all day. This irritability devoured my usual grin, replacing it with a smirk of derision and intolerance for barking dogs, barfing cats, and demanding mothers.
Yesterday, I snapped and snarled like a harpy. I rolled my eyes at every request. I slumped, slunk, and dragged my way to and from the laundry room, kitchen, bathroom . . . any room that demanded my attention. I yanked wet clothes out of the washer, wrestled them into the dryer, and then wadded them into the laundry baskets instead of neatly folding each item. I slung dress shirts onto the top of the machine in the hope that they will miraculously hang themselves. I refused to enter the room in fear that the pile would taunt me and tumble my mood into an abyss.
Yesterday, I grumbled and groaned each time the phone rang with a wrong number or a sales pitch. I bit my tongue when I found out a guitar I ordered hadn’t shipped out as promised. I wrapped myself in a blanket of funk and poured myself a huge cup of pity. I sat alone, gulping down every last drop in petulant perversity.
But . . . today shines bright and sings true!
Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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