Coping

I can so relate to Allison at Motherhood, WTF. Sometimes you just don’t have the energy to deal.

I used to be married to a Greek man. Who traveled a lot for work. Whose mother would visit us and make the most delectable Greek food – spanakopita, moussaka, baklava. At the end of one of her visits, she left us with a refrigerator full of delicious treats. As well as a pan of baklava – sticky, honey-ey, sweet baclava – on the kitchen counter.

She returned to her home in a neighboring state. My ex-husband flew to his work site,  to return in a week. And I went to my job at Oracle. It was a particularly stressful time at work and we were under a tight deadline. I ended up pulling an all nighter, returning to our house mid-day the next day.

I opened the front door and could sense movement. I gingerly walked through the foyer, into the dining room. And there I saw them.

Ants.

Millions and millions of ants. They formed a solid black ribbon from the back study, through the master bedroom, through the guest bedroom, down the hall, through the dining room, into the kitchen. Destination – baklava.

I, like Allison, started screaming. I didn’t know what else to do. There were way more of them than me. I grabbed a can of Raid and doused the house. And there lay millions of dead ants in my house.

I couldn’t deal. I knew that eventually I would need to vacuum, or mop, or do something to dispose of the millions of ants. But in that moment, I was exhausted. I could not face the task. I could not stand to be in the house.

So I booked myself into the nearest spa, got a massage, and spent the night there. Sometimes, you just can’t be Superwoman.

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