I can’t be or do everything for everyone all of the time- or even part of the time!
I can’t come to every event or fulfill every favor asked of me.
I can’t always be as flexible with my time or my schedule as you’d like.
I can’t stop, drop, and make things work out for you at the cost of me sleeping, eating, or actually walking at a normal pace instead of literally RUNNING to my car in order to only be a FEW minutes late.
I can’t do everything you want me to, be everywhere you want me to be, or support everyone in every way all of the time.
I can’t, and what’s more, I WON’T.
Hello world, I am done trying to please all of your occupants at the exact same time.
I will get at least six hours of sleep and refuse to constantly run on caffiene.
I will eat three meals a day, and none of them will be out of a vending machine.
I will sit in the sun, have real conversations, and take time to be still before the Lord- if I can even remember how to be still.
I will try to support you, love you, be there for you, and fulfill my responsibilities to the best of my abilities, but not at the cost of my life.
I will recognize that my problems deserve my attention, too, not just everyone else’s.
I will be angry or sad or irritable or apathetic or exhausted or fed up or overwhelmed when I AM, instead of acting like I can manage everything.
When I’m sick, I will sleep on the couch instead of putting on my high heels and faking it.
When I’m at a loss for words in the middle of a situation, I’ll stop making things up and just shut up instead.
This is me.
This is the end of my rope.
This is my calendar, so full I literally am running out of space even in the margins.
This is my schedule, constantly changing and making me want to punch things.
This is what is asked of me- more than I can handle, because people are used to me stretching and making it work, because I always have.
Not any more, sweethearts.
I’m done stretching myself so thin I’m see-through.
I’m done pretending a handful of peanuts has enough protein to count as a meal.
I’m done putting what I want to do last so that I can’t do everything for everyone else first.
I am going to drive slower, eat slower, walk slower, talk slower, pray slower, think slower, and be as slow as I want to when I respond to your text messages because I am confident that the world will not end if I don’t answer your question within thirty seconds.
Tomorrow, if I’m late that will be ok.
If I don’t look my best that will be ok.
If I’m not in a pleasant mood that, too, will be ok.
SuperSarah just died, kids, and the real girl is coming out.
I personally am not someone who has any great number of conspiracy theories. Yes, when a sudden Swine Flu epidemic broke out shortly after Obama was elected as president, I did wonder if the man-made disease had been released on-command. But come on, when it comes to Obama, politics, and the American government, I am most certainly not the only suspicious person around. There are lots of conspiracy theories, like the ones you learn about when you watch National Treasure. But the kind of conspiracy theories I’m prone to come up with are slightly less political and exciting. I tend to watch my sister take a long drink from MY glass of water, and then say suddenly, “I see what you’re doing! You’re passive-aggressively trying to kill me by drinking my water, and slowly removing everything I need to live!” This is the sort of comment that leads to my sister’s laughter and to jokes about being passive-aggressive between a ninth grade boy and I, as he is constantly asking me for water...
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