I haven't written lately because I'm even boring myself with the "big deal on the table" garbage these days and yet it's so all consuming I can't even fathom life before or after the "big deal."
I was talking to my husband tonight and I likened it to a marathon.
If someone tells you they're training for a marathon and you ask them how far it is and they say, "Twenty-six miles" you know it's their first marathon. And if they say "Twenty-six point two miles" you know've they've done it before because when you're training for your first marathon you think, "HOLY FUCK HOW AM I GOING TO RUN TWENTY SIX MILES?" so that's all you're focused on.
But then once you've run the twenty-six miles and you're looking around for the finish line and someone tells you, "Hey mate, it's just up ahead around the bend, only point two miles left to go." you think "It's not the 26 miles that's going to kill me, it's the point two." And you NEVER DISRESPECT the point two again.
Well that's where I am with this deal. At the 26 mile mark and FUCK ME if there isn't point two left to go. I've been up to my ass in alligators since March and this thing will be over by August 31st and I'm on the edge of my sanity clinging to the calendar and telling myself that only a moron makes it 26 miles to walk off the road before 26.2. So I'm holding on. But barely.
I'm developing bad habits: insomnia.
I may have missed a shower (or two.)
My kids ask me every day, "How much money will we get?"
It's going to be okay, I know it is. But until then, somethings gotta give and I'm sorry if it's this blog.
I miss you.