RUN AWAY

Is it really possible to blend a new husband into 10 years of solo mom-daughter dynamics? When the 17 year-old daughter thinks she has been the head of the household all that time? Why do I feel like that spike, driven with great ceremony, that joined the Union and Pacific Railroads? Holding two great opposing forces together with one small fulcrum of sanity. If a step-father train leaves the east coast heading west at 70 mph and the step-daughter train left the west coast 10 hours ago and is barreling at breakneck speed (oh, say 120 mph), where exactly on the map of my consciousness are they due to collide? Can I get the tarps down first to keep the mess off the new rugs?

Only one day back to my work schedule, and already there are many revelations.
1. This is crazy. I do not like opening the front door and letting clients in, they are needy and want to hear stories and want to sing their songs of dysfunction. They insist that their traumas and challenges are worse than mine. They've been waiting a whole month to recite their litanies, and by god, they're going to make me PAY for daring to desert them for a month.
2. Answering my work phone is bad for my mental health. So, as for those 10 messages waiting on the machine, we'll see who gets the lucky call back.
3. There is no way it is humanly possible to address the needs of all of those tugging on me: husband. daughter. step-kids. siblings. students. clients. I spent a month interacting with family, which took about all the energy I had. Now factor in the business, and I don't know where that's supposed to come from. I doesn't feel humanly possible. How did I used to do this? I have reached the brink of multi-tasking, and I'm too numb to leap into the abyss.
4. One half-hour in between clients is not enough. Not enough time to go pee, answer the phone, check email, stick my head out the door for a breath of congealed South Florida August "air."
5. Screw-up on seminar accomodations in October. If I cancelled my clients I could actually sit on the phone and come up with plan B. Instead, I explain the situation to my husband, give him the phone numbers and desperately try to engage him in problem-solving.
6. This whole situation is designed inefficiently. Can't make phone calls with clients coming in, can't talk with clients with phone business on my mind. My brain hurts.

And this was an "easy day."

Tomorrow brings my two most needy, pushy, rude, boundary-less challenges. Be forewarned; I have emerged from the underground. The rules are different now. Behave yourselves, or the green door will forever shut behind you!