I’m tired. Worn is not enough, exhausted is too dramatic. I wish I was exhausted. At least then I would collapse and get a break. Exhaustion sounds like a vacation. I am just so very tired. 

And I am emotionally tired. I have been having the same fight with the same person for too, damned. long. Around, around the Mulberry Bush we chase each other until it is no longer clear who is chasing and who is running and we are both sure that the other person started it.

I am afraid I inherited my need to blame. One side of my family growing up always needed to know whose fault it was. The door could be almost broken for the last three years, but if it broke in your hands your name was put down forever in the family history book, “Abby broke that door.” It doesn’t matter if 13 cousins slammed that door fifty million times before me.

The thing about that blame is this. The door isn’t fixed with it. Blame, even when appropriately assigned, doesn’t fix anything. By the time you have gotten around to assigning blame, everyone is tired of talking about it and yet nothing is fixed.  The door is hanging by the hinges and the bugs are still coming in. But at least you know whose fault it is…..