I’ve been putting in some extended hours this week, some here at the office, some at home. To say that I’ve been multitasking would be a gross understatement. There are days when I don’t know which hat to wear, or believe that I should perhaps grow three heads so that I can wear all of the hats simultaneously. Yesterday was one of those days. As wonderful as the day started out, by the end of it I was worn out, teetering on the edge of mental exhaustion. Typically at the end of a long day, my one reward is an easy commute. I work 25 miles from home. On an average day, this takes me about 45 minutes in the evenings. When I stay later, it typically takes around 30ish. . .again, a reward for a long day. Last night a few storms rolled in just prior to my leaving the office. They had passed through by the time I pulled out of the parking garage, but at that point the damage was already done. I was so frustrated by my day, the last thing I needed was a heinous commute at 7pm. . .I nearly had to pull over to the side of the beltway and cry. I don’t remember the last time that I became so utterly unraveled that I thought my choices were pull over or ram the car in front of me. It was this overwhelming flood of emotions ranging from road rage to hopelessness to anger to despair. . .and I couldn’t control it. In the end, I didn’t pull over, although I did cry for a few minutes, hoping to release whatever demons were trapped inside of me. When I get upset I yell, then I cry a little, then I’m over it. I have to let it out or I’ll explode. Unfortunately, this typically involves my husband being on the receiving end of my rage, which he doesn’t handle. As he posed to me last night, “how would you feel if I were yelling at you”. . .I don’t think about these things. I wasn’t really yelling AT him, I was just yelling and he was on the other end. I realize that what I’m going through right now is a phase. . .a point in my life where everything just seems a little heightened, a little more than I can take. . .I’m doing everything I can to keep it all in check, take it in stride, let it roll off my back, but at times all I want to do is sit in a corner and sob for hours. The thing of it all is, I asked for this. I just don’t think I realized that it would take more of me than I’m used to giving…I wonder when I’ll acclimate to all of this insanity? I’m not sure how long my body or my husband can take it.