Fiendish Friday: Broken Give a F***

Yes I just swore really big. Note the day. I don’t whip that one out very often.

I’m sure if you pop by my blog at all you’ve seen there’s been lots of club drama. Lots of missed write ins because of meetings etc. And each week my stress level has gone up. And up. And up.

And then I missed a deadline on my book. Because of the incredible time suck that is the club. And definitely due to the emotional drain that the club has become.

And then Tuesday morning my kiddo burst into tears for like the 20th time in the last week and when I asked him what was happening he said “Your stress is making me anxious.”

Pop. It was like someone through a switch.

There went my ability to give a f*** about the club.

Bad enough it’s messing with my mental health but mess with my kid and it gets ugly.

So I am now a paper processing machine. I do what work needs to be done and then I shelve it and move on. No emotional energy for the club.

And I can’t even give credit to my dear friend who coined “break my give a f***” right now because her husband has viral meningitis. Slaps forehead. Some things are so much more important than a club.

Holy guacamole, in the vein of more important, I just came face to face with a black bear having breakfast. Luckily my dog convinced him I would not be a tasty second breakfast.