The aftermaths of Mondays

Mondays have a bad rep, and in my tiny spot on the globe, deservedly so. Mondays mean to me (as they do to many people) a return to the work week, the resumption of a million tiny tugs in a million tiny directions. I try to get through them with as much grace as I can but yesterday wasn't really one of those days. To be fair, I was more sassy than pissy but I certainly had my moments of ill temper.
I think because it was a weekend filled to the brim with goodness, it made it all that more glaring that MONDAY. WAS. HERE.
I had a great weekend with the boys, with actual conversation and time spent together in bits and spurts. Between work and schools schedules, it gets tricky sometimes to find that time so I appreciate it even more when we magically  make it happen. Most of our Christmas shopping is done, which is a relief. Now it's just a matter of small things here and there, Trev's shopping which he's put off, and wrappppping. Saturday was my work Christmas party and that was fun. Dinner out and then a club for a few, couple of drinks, some giggles. Fun times. Woke up Sunday morning with a small headache but nothing too horrible and spent the day with Ry and his gf. Overall, a good weekend.
Monday decided it needed to roar a little so coming into work was not enjoyable. Putting out theoretical fires is part of my job as office manager so I'm used to it, just not so lovely when it comes on the heels of a pleasant weekend.
Bad weather, broken printers, employees not acting responsibly and just overall Mondayness meant I was a little...sassy. By day's end, it was good that it WAS ending, we'll just put it like that.
Home and chillaxing was good. Sleep was good. Better perspective today is good.
Reminder to self: just because Life tosses snowballs, doesn't mean you have to get hit by them. Drag out the blow torch and blast those suckers into raindrops and enjoy the rainbow that happens after.

Tired

After a couple of days of relative peace, today has been a little more stressful. Between work and boys, I really would like nothing  more than to head home, take off my work layers and chill but that's not going to happen. Tonight is laundry night and due to a lack of a dryer, we have to go to the laundromat. Joy and happiness. Hopefully it won't be heavily populated with people who pay no attention to their children at all or I might be tempted to hurt someone.
My head hurts and I'm tired of dealing with idiots. My attitude is pretty cruddy at the moment and I'm trying to change that. Hoping music therapy on the way home will help.
I'm trying hard not to let the rest of my evening go to crap because of all of this.
Perspective some days is easier than other days.
I don't understand how people can go thru their lives completely disregarding their impact on others. I don't understand how they can feel vindicated in treating people like crap. I don't understand how an ego can grow to proportions that someone literally feels like they can do no wrong. And I don't understand how someone can be so narcissistic and such the victim that they NEVER take responsibility for anything, ever and make everything someone else's fault. I don't get it.
I keep reminding myself of my current mantra, " Not my circus, not my monkeys" but again, that's easier some days than others.
I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of feeling like I'm such a screw up. I'm tired of feeling like no matter what I do, it's never right. I'm tired of feeling like I could disappear tomorrow and other than a blip on the boys' radar, it wouldn't matter. I don't exist. I'm lonely and beat up and broken and I'm TIRED of being this way. I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only contributor to a relationship that had more than it's fair share of flaws. I'm tired of being told to admit to things I didn't do, because someone else can't quiet their demons. I'm tired of fighting with boys who are chronologically men but emotionally still boys. I'm tired of being treated like I have no wisdom or experience, after 40 years on this Earth.
I'm tired. I'm too old for this crap. I'm past the point in my life where I want peace and happiness and I guess at this point....it's going to be alone. Not how I planned it or wanted it but the alternative has no appeal to me. Crazy Cat Lady it is...or some semblance of it. I don't have faith that I won't keep finding people who carve my heart to bits or that I won't keep choosing relationships that end up in a toxic sludge. I'm trying so hard to take the high road, to keep things amicable, like I did with Dean but I guess I'm tired of being the only one to do so. I'm tired of being the adult. I'm tired of fighting the good fight with my sons, only to have it slammed back in my face that I care TOO MUCH. Is there such a thing? Caring too much? Wanting the best for them and wanting them to NOT repeat the life altering choices or mistakes I made at their ages? Is it a cardinal sin to not want my efforts of the last 20 years tossed out the window like it's nothing? I have literally spent my entire adult life taking care of them, sacrificing for them, giving up MY wants and needs to make sure they were okay. While I know that's the definition of parenting....it leaves an acrid taste in my  mouth to have that disregarded and thrown about like it's nothing.
It's my life. It means something. Even if it means nothing to them.
I need to matter somewhere and I don't feel like I do. To anyone. Anywhere. Not even myself.