Don't Go to Bed Angry

Yesterday was one of THOSE days.

After dropping Raphaela off at school, I worked straight through the next eight hours, with no break for lunch.  Some of my clients were charming as usual, and some were...difficult.  My final patient said she wanted to give me "constructive advice," explaining that she felt she would better get her money's worth if she paid me by the minute instead of my standard fee.  After admitting that in fact I had helped her tremendously and that my services were worthwhile, she could not understand why I would take some offence at her suggestion.  I told her that if she wanted to try out another practitioner that was more "frugal," she was more than welcome, and I showed her the door; she finally understood the implications, and lay quietly on the table while I treated her, and paid the full price.

But I was not happy.

Straight from school, Raphaela and I drove to the supermarket, sitting in the traffic of the Thursday afternoon shoppers, only to find that we did not have a parking space once we got to the store, and that the supplies had been ravaged by the holiday shoppers for Rosh HaShanah.

In Raphaela's enthusiasm to press the elevator button, she practically trampled a little old lady.  Startled, this woman started shrieking at my daughter; I instructed Raphaela to apologize, explaining that even if it was an accident, she needed to help this elderly woman calm down.  As soon as the elevator opened, Raphaela dashed into the parking lot and almost got run over by a car.

I was not happy.

When we got home, we went to the library and then looked at her homework assignments.  Which she didn't take seriously at all, scribbling on the pages and covering over the words.  I tried my best to explain that she needed to sit down and focus.  More stress between us and meanwhile, I had not eaten breakfast or lunch, and had reached my limit.

I was not happy.

The evening only degenerated from there, to the point that Raphaela went to bed angry at me, because I was angry at the world.  I had a small glass of red wine, and instead of helping me rest, it somehow woke up my brain and all those hostilities that had accumulated from the day.  So I started cleaning the house for Shabbat, watched a terrible movie on cable and finally fell asleep at midnight.

This morning, at six am, some random person yelled at me for feeding the street cats.

Then the great search for the weekend newspaper began. On a hunch, I knocked on the door of the neighbor with severe dementia, and indeed, she had scooped up all the papers for every resident in the building ( five in all) and was reading them happily.  Having sorted out the pile of crumpled sheets, I delivered each paper to its rightful owner in the building.

Of course, because Raphaela wanted to show me that we had not resolved the issues from the day before, she said to me, "I don't like your kisses and I will never snuggle with you again. Ever again."  She will say much worse as she gets older, I know.

On a normal day, I would deal with this rationally, understanding where the intentions originated.  Today it struck deep, and I told her that she had hurt my feelings and made me sad, and that I needed alone time.  Raphaela brought me a tissue but did not apologize.

Neither of us were happy, and that mood lasted all the way on our walk to school; whereupon I felt guilty because this fight would affect her focus in her classes.

I had planned on exercising today, but instead did the ten or so errands that I did not manage to finish yesterday.  All before school pick-up at 11:50.    I saw a friend on the street, she told me with admiration  that it must be challenging to be  be a single mother;  that every day is what she called a Zero Sum Game.

I replied that I wish it were Zero Sum, I am way in the Negative End Zone at the moment.

I  am not happy and would also like to cry, and get this out of my body and out of my system, but my schedule will not allow it.