Skip to main content

Too Much to Do

I have too much to do and none of it is work related. I would need to get work done, a lot of it. I would also have a house to take care of that is being neglected because I do not have a clone.

The ideal work week would be Monday through Friday while the kid is at school. The ideal housekeeping schedule would be first thing in the morning and just before last thing in the evening so I can rest. It is not working out that way. That would be a contributing factor to my stress.

Things are disappearing in this house. Things like the harness for the dog so I can control him better in the afternoons while we wait on the school bus.

Losing things in this house typically means that the house has to be ripped apart only to find the missing item where you would least expect it to be. It’s getting aggravating.

Tiny hands lose the book that is wanted for bedtime, and will not settle for anything else. I am hunting down organizers and labels. The kid can read to put things back, now to find out if her father can. One of the biggest problems over the last seven years has been getting him to put things where they go instead of where he thinks that they do.

OK it’s time to go find my sanity in what is fast becoming a disaster area. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

C is for Calm

It's been so long that I'm not sure what it is anymore but I think I'm beginning to find calm. It is the feeling that allows you to find contentment in the smallest things. It does not have to be something major, it can be something as simple as a gentle breeze. There are a number of things that have a calming effect; I look forward to being able to do them. What are they? I'll tell you in no particular order. Walking on the beach. Drinking a beer by a bonfire. Sitting in front of a fireplace. Reading a book. Spending time alone just thinking or writing just to write. Calm is a nice feeling, and one that has been missed the last few years. Slowly it is returning that is why C is for calm.

Flash in the Pan Playing Along Still

The pages were bent and ragged from years of use, covers worn out from hands rubbing over them. There were bowls everywhere, the oven was still hot. She tasted it again, something wasn’t right. It was sweet, tangy but not right. What was missing? She scanned the room again to see. Onions maybe? No, but what could it be? She hit her head on the cabinet. A pepper that was it!