Mental Gymnastics

School has started and I am exhausted.

I wish I would have kept up with my walking and practicing my sign language.

I was up to 9 miles a week and I was teaching my hubbie sign.

Now I collapse on the couch with my eyes rolled backwards and today I practiced the alphabet.

Two steps forward and one step back.

Still waiting for my husband to go back to work. The spirit of unemployment is alive and well in this house. The savings account dwindles by the week. I’ve already decided which bills I’m not going to pay.

I’m having visions about exploring a new career field, but don’t feel secure about it because of my husband’s instability? Logic tells me to shut the fuck up and be grateful I have a job with benefits. Ethos tell me to spread my wings and to shoot for the stars.

Staying positive while broke is turning into some type of mental gymnastics. I throw myself at work while ignoring the countless bill calls and account alerts. In the back of my mind, I feel the thoughts creeping forward. I crush those thoughts and try to be optimistic, but it is hard. Right now, my gas tank is on E and my spiritual tank is 3/4 full.

I am alive and healthy. I have a loving husband who adores me. A family who supports me and likes having me around. A couple of kooky friends. A job that provides me with benefits and time off during holidays. Life could be worse. But it could be better.

Gratefulness. Patience. Understanding. I repeat these words to myself because I need to remind myself what I am lacking.

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