Week Three: Complaints and Contemplations

Today, it took me an hour to drive home. I found out that there's a hole in one of my boots, so I had a snow-soaked sock for most of the day. I didn't have time to eat lunch. I woke up fifteen minutes after I was supposed to be at work. I have to do homework, still, and work for my internship. I'm tired, I'm cold, and it's still snowing.

This hasn't even been the worst day of my week. But, it's only Wednesday. 

Life, lately, has not been easy. I'm juggling four classes, two jobs, two internships, two school clubs, a magazine column, and I'm trying to help my sister plan her wedding. I thought last semester had been busy. All I seem to be doing is running from one place to the next, tripping over barriers and running into stop signs along the way. Right now, I want to scream, then curl up under a blanket and sleep until May.

With all that's going on, I've barely had any time to wrap my head around anything. I feel so scattered. I have that constant nagging feeling that I've forgotten to do something, but I can't ever figure out what. It's as if my mind is an internet browser with hundreds of tabs open and I can't figure out which one the music is coming from. I'm drowning in a sea of my own anxiety, sinking so deep into the blue that the sunlight is but a speck in the distance.

A lot of the time, I forget to look at the good. I forget that even though I've had a rough day or week or month that I'm still here, still trudging through the deep snow and wading through the sea's waters, preparing for what lies next.

There will be a tomorrow.

There will be a tomorrow meant for making mistakes.

There will be a tomorrow for long commutes, holey boots, and late wake-ups.

There will be a new tomorrow.

Today, I made it home safely. I got to change into dry socks. Dinner was ready when I stepped inside. I have the day off from work tomorrow. I get to sleep in. I get to learn at school and make money at work. I get to see the fresh snowfall cascading from the brilliant sky.