I haven’t been as transparent here as I usually am. I quietly alluded recently that I have been a bit down in the dumps and that is most likely more reactionary and situational than a shift of something more clinical. I know that I like there to be a certain order and calm in my life. Daily it doesn’t happen and usually I can shrug and laugh it off and croon Frank Sinatra, “That’s life! That’s what all the people say.”
But sometimes I just really suck at shrugging things off. And the “things” are so small, so tiny, so not important that they aren’t even worth discussing. They are little marbles of trouble put into my worry jar and on any given day I can deal with them head on – it’s just when I neglect a couple of things here and there that the jar gets too full and heavy and it starts wobbling around and the next thing you know I’ve gone and lost all my marbles.
Obviously I begin the ritual self-blaming and whipping. This begets a race to catch up and get things back in order which begets less sleep which begets inability to tolerate a non napping toddler which begets house-keeping never getting done which begets a weird sort of shut-in situation which begets the most fantastic expression of bitchism that you have EVER encountered. I totally win the contest for bitchiest.
What could have made it better? If everyone else in the world could just velcro themselves to the wall for 8 hours so that I could catch the fuck UP. That’s all. Too much to ask for?
Last week was uniquely hard because Mother needed driving to appointments and to work daily and W’s pre school was closed for Spring Break and it was HOT and ya’ll know how heat makes me cranky.
[side note: YES I do realize how completely obnoxious this post is and I apologize, but if I don’t clear away this mental debris I won’t be able to write anything. If you are even reading this you should get a cookie.]
SO blah blah
The peripheral stress along for the ride was obviously about money. One of the top reasons I enrolled W in pre school was so that I could have dedicated time to work and bring in some money and carve a real life for myself. Having six hours a week to work on writing, site management at WWTK, and design work for Plaid House sounded like such a great idea. I have had no problem filling the time with creative projects – just not creative projects for other people. AKA jobs.
I applied for a few jobs and was giddy about the idea of going in for an interview (these would be for work at home web management type things and would only need a few hours from me a week) and then realized after, a week plus went by, that I was not going to be called in for an interview at all. Really right up until this morning I was bracing myself for having to take W out of school because after this week I literally had no money for it. [thankfully my super smart business partner figured out a way to shuffle things around and W is covered for school for May – PHEW!]
I get all mad at myself when I get to moments like this. Luckily this moment worked out right now. But for fuck’s sake am I doomed to be the Mom just a day away from having to pull her son out of camp or out of a sport? It’s a really, really crummy feeling. Oh how I wish I had just a smidge more security. I know it will come. I do. It will come because I am a hard worker and I am dedicated to making a success for myself. I am just not a fan of this era of figuring things out – not a fan at all.
Of course all of this doesn’t even come close to the panic I had two weeks ago when W and I came home from running errands. I opened the front door to the house and put a bag of groceries down and I heard W continue to wheel on to the back of the house with his buggy. I walked down the sidewalk to the back of the house and there was no W. The buggy was there, my baby was not. OH MY GOD it was the worst THE WORST feeling I have ever ever ever ever felt in my entire life. And that is not an exaggeration at all.
I started screaming W’s name and I took off down the alley that runs behind the row of houses. I heard no cars, no people, nothing. I saw nothing. I ran back to the buggy yelled his name again and walked to the other side of the alley which is where I spied him curled him and “hiding” in my neighbor’s yard chair. Oh he thought he was so funny. I swooped him up and charged into the house and sat him down and made it very clear how upset I was. And now I have a slight problem of picking W up and not putting him down.
My back is killing me.