Today I am tired of being the colossal fuck up.

I’m tired of being the one who gets in a fight with her husband in public.

I’m tired of being the one who gets lost on a 5k in Central Park and finds herself 12 blocks away from where she is supposed to be.

In a purple tutu.

And yeah, that purple tutu. The one that reminds me of a little boy who has a hell of a lot more to worry about than getting lost in Central Park.

I want to sit in this hotel room and have a good hard cry. I want to feel sorry for myself for all the things that haven’t gone my way. I want to, for just a moment, not be reminded of all the things I have to be grateful for.

But today won’t be that day. Too much to do. Too much to remember. Too many colossal reasons that are more important than me.

(uhhh… This post was written 14 hours ago but didn’t publish for some reason. But I’m sitting next to two amazing women right now who have described this exact thing. So I’m publishing it still.)


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