My Meltdown

rainy day

Well, I have shared with you Jon’s meltdowns, along the trip, so I figured I needed to be transparent and share mine as well.  What lead to my melt down you might ask?  Digging for rocks.  Yes, digging for rocks is what threw me over the edge!  Silly I know, but have you ever had to dig through earth to find 10-30 pound rocks?  It sucks!

Here I am leaning over, pawing through dirt, until I came to a chunk of limestone big enough to toss into the wheelbarrow.  Some of them I literally had to squat down and use my leg muscles to get enough force to move these things!  Jon, was not there to rescue me, because I know him and he would have.  He would tell me it was too much, not to hurt myself, prying these damn rocks out of dirt they refused to part with.

I was silently praying for rain, “Please Jesus, save me before I go postal and collapse in this dirt in a pool of tears.  Please, please send rain.  The sky is grey, can’t you please let it rain.” 

All I could think about was how badly I was in need of a manicure and pedicure, while raking away at the dirt.   Actually by this point I was more throwing the rake at the dirt in front of me. I wanted to do my makeup, straighten my hair, put on a dress and feel beautiful.  I was cursing the damn women of the 60s that decided we had to do EVERYthing equal, honestly I am happy to give this kind of work to a man, no problem!   Staying home and making babies and cooking dinner and cleaning the house, sounded pretty freaking good to me in the moment.

It probably didn’t help that I just finished reading a book that discussed the negative effects of feminism.  I was completely whining to myself, I don’t want to feel masculine, I don’t want to throw rocks.  I want to feel feminine.  

I tried everything to calm down…mantra, positive thoughts, remembering I was in Italy for heaven’s sake!  Nothing touched it!  I wanted to call my mom crying.

Then I began wondering how many of our friends and family took bets on how long I would last volunteering doing manual, physically labor?  This thought didn’t even occur to me until today, but I am sure at least a few of you did.  Jessica, do manual labor!  Yeah, we will see how long this will last.  Well, I did the math, I lasted 67 days to be exact.  Actually to be honest, we started in Paris, which was more of a vacation, so I lasted 59 days.  Not too bad.  And I will continue on!

As my Aunt Beth says, “Extravagance is good for the soul.”  And I couldn’t agree more.  Sometimes we just need to treat ourselves!  And my soul is in desperate need of a good pampering.  Spa day anyone??

 

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