Despite owning a pair of Wonder Woman underoos when I was 6 years old (here's a grown-up version, which are kind of awesome) and the WW mug that sits upon my desk, I am not her.
I went to work today, feeling overwhelmed. Jeremy is out of town, and Jack woke up during the night. I'm feeling a little under the weather anyways and I had a lot of work to do. Blessedly, I got through it all: a work colleague and I kicked butt at a funder meeting (she told us we have a 99.9% chance of getting the grant); another friend and I completed a presentation for tomorrow; and my realtor called to say we have a showing on our condo tomorrow night. Score. Rock and roll.
After work, I get to my friend's house tonight to pick up Jack. He looked tired and played out. He had scrapes all over his knees, which Maria had already given me the heads' up on. But, man, it broke my heart to see all of those scrapes and to know at the moment when he feel down, I wasn't there to pick him up. And that hurt.
I know I can't beat myself up, but it's just really, really hard to not be able to do it all with my superpowers.
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