Do you know how it is when you’ve been gone for a while and everything that was neglected during that time has piled up so high you can’t see over or around it and now it’s Monday and you have to tackle that pile but you only have a few days before you have to be gone again and you just know that you don’t have time to do everything you neglected last time before everything that will be neglected while you’re gone again piles up and you’re stuck in a vicious cycle because it’s too close to Christmas to really get anything done so everything is just going to pile up even higher and wider and longer and you want to hide in the closet and wrap your arms around your middle and rock yourself?
Yeah. I’m there.
Like I’ve said before, this time of year doesn’t belong to me. Not that I’m complaining, exactly, because I have fun with MSB and Mom and the rest of the family. But it gets annoying when what I think is going to happen doesn’t. Like, we were going to be gone a week, so I scheduled my posts to show up at what I thought were all the right times, but they didn’t. Or, I thought I could work my blog through the app on my so-called “smart” phone, but I couldn’t. Or, I thought I’d have time to write more posts during those few hours I’m home, but I don’t. Or, I thought I could handle all the things that need to be done at home, but I can’t because something unexpected always happens–like the TV deciding it isn’t going to work, so we needed to shop for a new one; or one of MSB’s acquaintances passing away, so we had an unexpected trip to make; or Mom being sick for much longer than she let on, so I have another unexpected trip. (Would it be too much to ask to go through one holiday season without one of us having to visit a doctor?) And I’ve barely begun all the Christmas things that need to be done.
How do people do it all?
So, it’s Monday, and instead of having my head on straight and being ready to get back to work, my brain’s scrambled with the idea that nothing’s going to get back to normal until sometime in 2015. I’m sitting here, rambling through my fingertips, flubbering my lips, and feeling overwhelmed.
Bear with me.
Better yet, pray for me. My sanity was questionable to begin with . . .