Crying, donuts, and orgasms do not always go together.

I had a real moment yesterday. A real moment that has been nearing the surface for some time now, but it decided it needed out last night.
It's been a real struggle, a real annoying, redundant, struggle for me to take each day as it comes. I have so many great things going on and many more to look forward to, but I've been going through each day as if I'm crossing it off the calendar. I really do not have any deadlines, so to speak, or tests coming up, or family issues that need dealing with immediately. I think it's hard for me to function without these things, without being able to see them on my planner, I become a bit nervous, and even confused. It's really just part of who I am.
Yesterday evening, I came to a better place with it all.
I had a good explosive crying session by myself while lying naked on my bed. My husband had gone downstairs because I needed "time by myself". It actually all started with sex-with the two of us. We were starting out, and I decided to use my vibrator, well, it just wasn't working. I was too distracted. I realized that I probably just needed a good f*ck and I wasn't in a place to take time for myself. I began to get irritated, so I asked Pete to go downstairs so I could have time with myself first. He did, oh so patiently. I then started in with myself. Well, I made the mistake of imagining what I looked like at that moment; vibrator buzzing, contorted look on my face, the sad picture of body/mind/soul separation. I was not there. I was thinking about how it was my turn to pick up donuts that Friday for my co-workers. I was thinking about how I needed to wash the cooler out for camping that following week. These are not clitorally-stimulating thoughts. Donuts are good, but not that good. I was not able to give myself an orgasm. And that made me cry. It was a sudden, exasperated, exhale of a cry. I turned the vibrator off and made sure she knew I didn't blame Her (I think subconsciously, I was forgiving myself as well). While crying, I was able to put some words together about how I felt and why. It was a personal, if not a sexual, relief.
Then I had sex. I had sex because I DID need a good f*ck. I called my life mate upstairs, he saw that I had damp, red eyes and asked "what's wrong?" and I just said "I'm fine now, but I want some sex"...this isn't exactly easy for HIM because he'd rather have sex when I have laughter in my eyes, but, hey, you don't always get the glee. Sometimes, you won't even get my full attention, but I still want it and need the close, physical, emotional contact. Sometimes, it just needs to be happening, and if I'm able to fully involve myself, I will do so.
The sex was very good, btw.
Then I did the post-sex-sitting-on-the-toilet-to-pee (because it's good for your urinary tract to pee after sex)-confession-talk. He was lying on the floor outside the bathroom, taking it in, but also probably trying to stay awake.
We've both been busy. I missed him and wanted to know that we would have some sort of getaway in the near future. I felt guilty for feeling stressed because I was so busy, especially since it was all really good stuff; clients, plans with friends, camping, etc. These are good! However, I had forgotten to schedule days off for myself. I need those open evenings/days to work out, to cut fruit and veggies, to watch The Office (and Weeds 2, soon!), to have laughter-in-my-eyes sex. That is so obvious, and I am always telling my clients and friends to do these things (clarification, I don't give my clients sex advice, I just suggest to take time for themselves).
I need to take my own advice.
I will be fine.