Feeling Funky

So, I've been in a funk lately.  Like for weeks.  I just can't seem to shake my dismal mood--or even pinpoint what's causing it.

Maybe it's the general chaos that defines my life.  We have stuff going nearly every night of the week with the kids' sports and end-of-year activities at school.  I desperately need to go to the grocery store, but I don't know when I'm every going to fit it in.

Maybe its the extended family drama that is in fact so dramatic that I won't even blog about it (you should know that's bad, given what I have written about my family!)

Maybe it's work.  I've been super busy lately.  And one of my bosses has been on a rampage for some unknown reason.  He doesn't harass me too much, but he has been beating our shared secretary down.  I feel sorry for her--and it makes it more challenging for my work to get done.

Maybe it's my own expectations for myself.  That I have to do it all. Be the mom who's at every single event, and the soccer coach, and the attorney who takes on extra pro bono cases, and the lawyer for family members who find themselves in deep water, and be the attorney at work that always manages to fit in whatever is asked of her and gives whatever is required.

DH says I'm a workaholic.  I'm not.  But I constantly feel like I have to prove myself.  Like I'm never giving enough to anybody, even when I'm giving everything I've got. And I can't stop, slow down, relax until I've given everything that I can.  And I still feel like the kids don't think I'm doing enough for them and my boss doesn't think I do enough for him.

I wake up in the middle of the night, every night, working out some problem, or realizing a problem that I hadn't noticed during the chaotic daytime hours.

I don't really know what to change or do differently.  I don't know how to slow down. Hopefully summer will help.

This weekend did not. We drove to Hometown, and had more relatives to see than we had time to fit in. And I spent a good chunk of my time there doing legal work for a family member while DH carted the kids around town to see his side of the family.

By the time we left this morning, I was even more stressed and cranky.  DH and I fought because we were leaving town too late, fought about what to get for breakfast, fought about how to tie down the trailer we were hauling back with a buffet that belonged to his mother.

We were 2 hours into our seven-hour trip before we started speaking.  And then we stopped for lunch.  And DH jackknifed the trailer and ripped a hole in the side of my beloved Armada. (Seriously, I love that car. A lot.)

And then I yelled at him, even though I shouldn't have because it was an accident and no one was hurt and it's all fixable.

And then it was another 2 hours before we spoke again, when I finally reassured him that I loved him more than my car, even though I really, really love my car.

So, it's been a crappy few weeks, topped off with a crappy weekend. I'm kind of afraid to see what this week brings.