I have a confession to make, MY BLOG IS STRESSING ME OUT. How dumb is that?
It isn't that I don't want to send you all secret decoder messages about my life. OK, secret decoder isn't a thing, but it sounds cool. I want to believe that you are all anxiously awaiting the latest installment of what's happening in the land of the Shenanigans.
It's more like: I have SO MUCH to tell you. Stuff keeps popping up. I still have a delightful stock of non-time-sensitive posts that I bump on the regular to fill you in on pressing-gotta-tell-'em-now stuff.
When I don't post what's current though, I feel behind and overwhelmed. When will I find the time to tell you about my closet cleaning with Mini and all the hilarity that ensued? Delilah knows, because she was on the phone with me for part of the process. I texted her photos of some of my interesting wardrobe finds.
Tell them, Delilah. So funny, right?
|I forgot to post this photo yesterday. It's|
the girls' closet. Mini's side is on the left.
|Around the bend in the closet she has|
two levels of hanging clothes.
My struggle is that I really don't have time to share all of the latest. I need to decorate and finish shopping (mostly online) and maybe freeze Christmas cookie dough and I have a quick and easy final evaluation for my class I need to do (will probably take minutes) and I need to finish my Christmas poem - which is almost done, earlier than I've ever done it- but I keep playing with it. I stick a ton of photos around the words and it's like a giant puzzle. As in: 'How many pics can I squeeze in here?'
And I broke my sleep pattern, which sucks. Of the last 4 nights, I have slept like 12 am- 4am for three of them. That's biting my ass. Big time. I start to wonder: celiac? stress? too much water late in the day, which is what I do when I'm busy, as in: OH CRAP, IT'S 8 PM AND I HAVE HARDLY HAD ANYTHING TO DRINK. GUZZLE, GUZZLE. That can't be good, or does it not matter. Or . . . stress, oh - I already said that.
Will Lad decide to stop texting us crazy shit and agree to get help, or be part of the family. Ever?
Our helper guy from NAMI keeps saying when Lad gets in a bind he's going to realize he needs us, then we might expect a shift. That bind happened last week. He was down to $10 in his account. He demanded that we send him grad money (that we agreed to put towards a car, but then he bought the car back when everything blew up without our money and blamed us for him having to get a crappier used car than he intended). We texted back that we have some ideas for gifts and purchases that might be a good way to recognize his graduation and to let us know when he wanted to get together to discuss. He texed back more word vomit.
Anyway, I felt more hopeless than usual last week because we thought THIS IS IT, THE TURNING POINT and we failed to gain a foothold.
Then there's a whole other situation that I don't have the energy to discuss just yet.
I'm struggling to keep up with life right now. I ignored my almost finished Christmas card poem to chat with you. Do you feel special? Sometimes I'd just rather share with you, than surf the web for a used iPad or risk losing my voice in a screaming fest geared at my computer as I try in vain to put together my mail merge to print envelopes for my cards.
This here post made me feel better, not sure it did anything for you. Maybe I'll pause my awesome, un-time-stamped posts for a bit until life is more calm. I crack myself up. I mean the Christmas cards will mail themselves, right?