Dear Elli,
As you have probably noticed from several of my letters, I'm pretty good at telling you all about what I want for you. But I don't take my own advice all the time.
I was sitting at work today and I realized that it is nearing the end of June. And I have taken exactly one day off this year. Yes, one. And I took that one day off to clean the house for a party. How pathetic is that? I know. Please don't answer. That was not a real question.
I love to work. Everyone knows that. I'm the freak who looks forward to Monday. I freaking LOVE my job. I love the work. I love the people. I love the travel. I love all of it.
But all work all the time is not healthy. In fact, I believe I have told you that already in at least one previous letter. But I'm shitty at taking my own advice.
So back to my epiphany today. I've come to the conclusion that, for the past year, I have sucked. I have been a stressed out workaholic with a major attitude. I knew that. But today, I finally realized it. For real.
I know why, too. And I'm going to tell you. And the rest of the world. Because I don't want you (or anyone else) to ever be anything even remotely as neurotic as me.
The last year has sucked. Royally. Both of my parents battled, quite literally, for their lives. Both are winning. But it was really freaking sucky. For them. And for me.
So I worked. A lot. Really hard. Because work was the only thing I could control. And the only thing that could be perfect. And, if I focused on my work, I could avoid focusing on the fact that my Dad couldn't walk and my Mom had no hair. And I wouldn't cry and feel sorry for myself. Because I hate to cry and feel sorry for myself.
But it didn't really work that well. I lost 25 pounds. Not on purpose. I was mean to your Daddy and sometimes even to you. I was short tempered. I was tired of feeling responsible. For everyone and everything. So I went to work. And I worked until my professional identity became way too important. Totally uncool. I know.
So I'm going to stop it. And I'm going to get my shit together and quit being a freak. I took a vacation day. Monday. And I'm going to spend the day in a chair in the yard reading a book. I'm going to relax. For the first time in a year. And focus. On nothing.
And next, I'm going to take another vacation day. And I will spend it with you. Because you are the most important thing I've got. And I love you. And I'm sorry for being an asshole.
Mom
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