Feel kind of okay
Not really sick Not Too Depressed Try to accomplish Everything Burn out on Doing Too Much Collapse in exhaustion and sleep for twenty hours Toys, books, clothes and rubbish somehow multiply (Copulating under the couch?) Daily routines begin to jump ship Fall ill or tilt into Depression Laundry, dishes, and scraps of paper lord over the entire house Cackling, crackling, smelly in piles and heaps and overflowing bins Maybe can't find a child for the mess Maybe lose most of my files for a class I am teaching and have to recreate the wheel Maybe worry that camera crews will show up for some humiliating before and after show Feel sick or Depressed about the state of Everything In My Life Be overwhelmed at how much there is to do Wait until I Feel Better to do Anything Realize that Things have progressed to the point where They Will Never Be Done So Spend three hours coming up with a new organizational system for the toddler's clothing (Sorted by size, color, frequency of wear, and degree of dressiness) That no one else understands and can never be replicated And that I will have forgotten by tomorrow Or possibly give the cat a bath Then somehow, someway Return to feeling kind of okay (My inner Martha Stewart is very bossy dragon-lady and has ridiculously high standards, but she is lazy as hell and never comes out to get the real work done. Useless wench.) Grateful CraP; While listening to KD Lang's rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Bird on a Wire"... Three year old: Where is her dad? Me:? TYO: She's all alone. Her dad should sing with her. Then she would feel better. Daily Convexions: tidied some. And I promise to enlist help of all family members for at least 15 minutes today to get rid of the flotsam and jetsam that have accrued during my convalescence. Note: so far I am liking the meds in the evening. have not felt crushingly tired in the afternoon (although there are too many variables including recent bouts of recurring sinus infections. Ugh. Having a ridiculous uptick in stupid vocabulary vomit. Time to stop.) Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |