I've had better days. . .

. . .and worse ones.

I didn't get done everything I meant to.

That means I'm waking up to a semi-messy house,

just the thought of that makes me grumpy.

I wasn't my best self today,

probably mostly because I'm not sleeping well,

probably because halfway through the night,

I have several children in my bed.

Or maybe because I feel like 

I'm never getting done all I mean to do.

I'm running, but still behind.

Feel like I'm trying so hard,

and yet never much closer 

to that person that I want to be.

I don't care for self-pity,

I'm not a big fan of needy, 

and I try to avoid them both.

But there are those moments

when an attempt at prayer 

just turns into incomprehensible crying

and I can't decide if that's very sincere

or just miserably pathetic.

It seems like it'd just be best

to declare, "I suck at everything"

and slip into the deep slumber

of the not-trying-anymore types,

comforted in my self-loathing 

by my own self-pity

(Because, really, who tries this hard,

very consciously, every day,

and makes this little progress?)

But alas, that's not the right course.

So I'll lay down,

try my best to sleep 

(though I'm not making any promises)

and start fresh tomorrow.

I think I need some positive reinforcement.

And a vacation.

And a nap.

Definitely a nap.