Mmmm... (out loud). Lord, how tired everything is! (to myself, to the universe). Will you ever shut up, you such a creature?! (to himself, to the alarm clock). I need to get up. No, seriously, Anh. No “just a minute.” Again, sleep through everything in the world, and everything. And it will be your fault. I hate looking in the mirror in the morning. But there is no way out: if you don’t look, it won’t get better during the day or evening. And when did so many wrinkles form around the eyes? These are not crow's feet, these are the paws of... a dinosaur! Apparently, the same animal stomped on my back at night. Why do I feel so broken? It’s morning, I should be rested and fresh, I should be fluttering around and looking forward to the coming day! How many years have passed since the last time I looked forward to a new day? Ten? No, more... Ugh, the shampoo is running out again. Now I only look forward to the night, because at night everyone sleeps, and no one bothers me, and I sleep too. But the night is still far away. Soooo... What kind of brute stole the hairdryer from the bathroom? Oh, it’s not a brute, it’s Igor. Dunce. Yesterday I dried a stain on my jeans. Is it really difficult to put things back in their place? So. Hair is clean. Makeup is in place. Well, in the mirror it’s not so scary anymore. And that's okay. Let's assume that no one knows what is there, under the paint. Igor, get up. Igor! Your first lesson is a test, haven't you forgotten? In algebra, in algebra. Blow into the kitchen, make coffee, and on me too. March! No, you can brush your teeth later! Ma-sha. Masha, wake up. It's time, baby. Go wash your face and brush your teeth while the bathroom is free. And sit down to review natural history, you promised to raise your hand. Damn, what can I feed you all? Van, well, why are you lying around? Small, or what? Let me go, I’ll be nice to you, I’ve already put on my makeup... Well, okay, I’ll call you in ten minutes. Why eggs and sausages again? And because, my dears, you don’t eat porridge, and standing at the stove in the morning is not my time, I still have to send you all to your appointments, and then to work. Masha, today you are collecting the dishes for the dishwasher. Nothing is “small.” Van, what do you mean he’s already run? Who will take the children to school? Taxi driver?! Why do they need a taxi driver when they have a father? The devil pulled me, I found someone to give birth to. Mash, what kind of klutz are you? Your sweater is purple and your tights are red. Change your clothes quickly! Igor, if you get less than a four, you don’t have to come home. Do you remember the agreement? So remember. Lord, where in this hell is my bag? But how do you know... What a coat! I thought they only drove around in infiniti in such poltas, but here you are! On our one hundred and seventh route. Lord, well, that’s what she did in her life that I didn’t do, and why now she has such a coat, and boots, and a manicure without a hitch... Manicure! Ah-ah-ah... Olga looked with horror at her polish from the day before yesterday. I forgot. Yesterday, indeed, the whole family watched a movie until late, and she nodded off, and immediately after the credits went to bed, because she was mortally tired and in general, does a person have the right to lie down at least once in his life, without waiting for everyone else to fall asleep? Well, and so. And I put the gloves out of the bag - it’s warm. There’s even nowhere to hide your hands! In general, they lived well, comfortably, they could get from home to work without transfers. Olga had been teaching English at a high school for fifteen years. That is, of course, she went on maternity leave twice, so not fifteen, but less, but that’s exactly how many years have passed since she came here to get a job (my mother’s friend in the education department suggested a place) - and got a job. Since then a lot has changed since then. For example, their head of the department, a harmful madam of venerable age, from the head of the department became the director of the school, and this, it would seem, is much worse! – made it even more harmful. They say there is no limit to perfection - so maybe sarcasm and stubbornness are Zoya Pavlovna’s personal perfection? The children, again, have become different. Every second one is hung with equipment that Olga would have to spend two salaries on. But absolutely everyone knows how to handle it. Previously, during breaks, the teacher on duty had to monitorso that they don’t run too much along the corridor, now - so that they don’t gather in the corners to watch porn from tablets that have unlimited access to the Internet. Again, she herself has changed. While studying at the university (with straight A's, of course), she prepared herself for the fact that she would come to school, love children, and the children would love her, and she would tell them about her beloved England, organize themed tea parties, and by the ninth class, each of her students will be able to read fluently in English - at their leisure, yes. Well, let it be science fiction, but in English. As you understand, the reality turned out to be completely different. The paperwork and all the other seamy parts of a teacher's life sucked the life juice out of her. The children seemed indifferent to her. When she came out of the first maternity leave, it only got worse (she, of course, didn’t tell anyone, but she felt as if after almost two years of sitting at home, her brain had shrunk, and her connection with reality had been severed like a thread). After the second... after the second she was almost not upset - she knew what to expect. Again, the face. And another wardrobe. Well, a wardrobe, you say. It is the easiest thing to adapt to the modern ideal. But no. Not for a teacher’s salary, that’s for sure. In addition, Olga catastrophically did not like what was displayed in the windows of the stores accessible to her. She once admitted to her mother that she was probably behind fashion in her soul. And she envied those who didn’t fall behind - didn’t have such a need, let’s say - and could dress in what they wanted. But their forty minutes a day She looked through fashion catalogs religiously. (“Do I have the right in this house to do at least something for myself, and not because I owe everyone something?!”) Masha, what are you doing? Russian? Have you eaten? Fine. Did you wash the dishes? Wash it. Why doesn't Igor pick up the phone? Dunce. Did he eat? Go ask. Didn't your father call? Will it be too late? OK. No, I won’t buy it, pancakes every day are harmful. Come on, do your homework. Bye. Home in two hours, not earlier. While these devils are still cleaning up the class... Yes, the journey takes more than an hour, due to traffic jams. Tired. I would like to go somewhere with Masha, but I can’t. But we once sewed and sculpted together, it was so cool. And Igor – he wouldn’t go anywhere himself, he already has his own affairs, his own plans, mom – don’t come near! And Vanka... Where is he and why will it be late? And why does it almost not matter to me at all? Probably there is no strength to change anything. I just don't have the strength. Where do they go, the strength? Why does a healthy woman in the prime of life (one would have to say “strength,” but it is not yet possible) feels like a wrung-out washcloth at any time of the day or night? And where does female beauty go after 25? If you build a battery of arguments against this question-thesis, then take a walk around the city on a warm summer evening, preferably even on a holiday, and look at the diverse incarnations of the “average woman” - the massiveness of the cross-section gives a very revealing result. And there is no need to talk about biology and all sorts of hardships of a woman’s life, especially those that supposedly related to motherhood. There are many women who, having given birth and raised three or four children, look better than those who have none at all or only one. Such a global lack of strength, which can last for years, has a very simple formula: it occurs when there is superfluous, but not necessary. What could we observe in the heroine of our sketch, Olga? Firstly, an obsession with negative emotions. Anger and self-pity are, as usual, at the top. This is easy to explain: emotions are “fuel”, food for our psyche. By experiencing emotions, we generate (for ourselves) energy. Moreover, both in negative and positive experiences. There is, however, a big difference between them: positive emotions are like a deposit in a bank, you make it, and then you reap the benefits - interest. Positively colored memories can give us strength for a very, very long time. And the energy from negative emotions is quickly spent. And new recharge is required. Guess what emotions a person who feels de-energized in such a situation will “follow”? Yes, sure.Most likely, he will go for a new dose of negativity. And what feelings we draw energy from most often is a matter of... habit. Yes, just habits. Therefore, the usual reference to a difficult childhood from a psychological point of view will not work here. A habit is formed in 21 days. Therefore, even if you have been grumbling and swearing for 25 years, in 3 weeks you can easily “relearn” and continue to receive energy from pleasure. We're not saying it will be easy, but it really is possible. (Important note: We're also not saying that life should be strictly chocolate and vanilla, with no room for irritation, sadness, or anger. There is. But only in those contexts where they are appropriate, natural and... quickly pass. As you understand, there are much fewer of them than others intended for joy). Secondly, there is too much vanity in the life of our heroine. Don’t you recognize this trait in her image as your own? ?And tell me, does a wolf, a tiger, or even a squirrel ever fuss? What about your pet cat? No. They can act very quickly - but it is always in a balance of relaxation and composure. You can only fuss over an empty reason and only in vain. That is, if something causes this behavior/feeling in you, then most likely it is not significant for you. And - this is very important - vanity often accompanies us when we take over someone else's responsibility. Will the child do his homework? , sorry, his responsibility. Be it in the first or tenth grade. Will your spouse have dinner too? Remember how you feel when someone tries to control you on your territory. This is hardly love and gratitude... It is clear that we were formed in such a way that we worry about our children’s grades as if they were our own, because for us this is an assessment of our competence as parents. But why should these problems of ours affect our children? Thirdly and most importantly (pun intended), it happens that a person does not have the most important thing in life. No goal. And the dream is put on the shelf - well, or in a long box with the inscription “someday later” (remember, this is the very moment that never comes). You can have both a family and a job - and feel that your life is meaningful and fulfilling, subordinated to something important. Dedicated, if you like. Or you can have both - and feel like the years are slipping through your fingers, and everything is in vain, in vain... We must warn you: sometimes in this, second, case, people feel that they need to get rid of everything that is holding them back, and then they will soar, fly... This is an illusion. If something is holding you back, it is primarily from within. You can move to another environment - and get bogged down even deeper there. And most likely, for qualitative changes to occur, the system needs to be changed from the inside. From within... yourself. And then, when you - from within yourself - bring some new state outside, then miracles will begin. The external may disappear and be replaced by a new one, or it may change beyond recognition. In any case, when you clearly understand what exactly you want to create in one or another area of ​​life that is significant to you, you can no longer and will not live as before. Isn’t that what you want?.. ***– Vanya, I want my own school.– Huh?– I want my own English school.– What?! Anna wanted to warn her husband not to choke on his porridge, but she stopped herself: don’t time and not place for caustic words. “I want to open my own, private, English language school,” Anna said slowly and thoroughly. “Should I get some tutoring?” “No.” Precisely school. “Are you crazy?” Isn’t there enough government workload for you? - No, I have a lot of workload there, and I don’t need it at all. - ...? - Yes, Van. I want to quit my job and open my own business. Anna promised herself that she would not be annoyed today, for nothing in the world. In the end, the future depends on this conversation. “What, do you have money for this?” – Ivan asked sarcastically. “No, of course.” But we could take out a loan. - That is, I could take out a loan, right? - Yes. - Well, why do I need such happiness? The mortgage has just been paid off, give me at least a year to rest in peace! - Van, understand, for me