Who is responsible for this?

I think somewhere inside of me I knew that sooner or later I'd hit my wall, but when it happened yesterday it still kind of caught me by surprise.

Work yesterday left me feeling very frazzled, and Steve was forced to listen to me alternate between freaking out and whining. That's all I can bring myself to say about that.

Class was on child abuse, and the first two presentations were okay, not much there that was new information.

The last part of class was devoted to a testimonial from a woman who had been molested/raped by her father starting when she was too young to remember until she was 18, and then a series of other men picked up where her dad left off. She was relatively detailed, and talked extensively about the emotional backlash. That sort of thing is always a lot to kind of sort through and then move along, but before we were even back in the car for the ride home one of the girls broke down and started crying. All the way back to our rendezvous point she talked about the boy in her neighborhood growing up who, well...whatever, you get the idea.

I got back in my car I was driving home and kind of all at once I just felt like one more trip to San Diego would kill me, much less five more. I need a pedicure, my hair needs trimmed, my fingernails are way too long, my car is filthy, I'm running out of clean laundry, I was hungry, tired, It was almost 10pm and I was still 30+ miles from home, my social life has been reduced to text messaging at work, or talking to someone on the phone driving to and from San Diego, and my cell phone battery was dying. So I was about to throw myself headlong into the moment of self-pity, but my logic just wasn't willing to let that happen. Instead I wound up giving myself a little pep-talk about knowing this was going to happen, and with only 5 more classes left, this is not the time to start freaking out about things, and besides that, I chose this. Nobody talked me into this. So I pulled myself together and used the last of my cell phone battery to talk to a friend, at least until it died.

So now I figure I've had the quitting moment, I'm through it, I found time to clip my fingernails, and now I'm ready and geared up for another night in San Diego.