She hid in the hotel bathroom for a moment of peace and thought maybe she was crazy.
Her, alone, with 4 young girls–2 of them on loan from other families. On the road. Juggling their needs and conference calls on the Bluetooth amid heavy holiday weekend traffic.
She stuffed herself with bad coffee and junk food to pull herself through. She regressed to the eating habits of a teenager. She blamed the sugar-drenched pop music the girls sang along with in between conference calls.
And when they finally arrived at the hotel that night, she felt like a rat coming home from the county fair. A crazy rat drunk from hydrogenated oils and corn syrup additives, with laughing girls jacked up on the same.
It was a long night.