(Originally posted in Facebook on May 8, 2019)
Yesterday was a really good day – work went well. I met a friend for dinner and had fun catching up.
Then I went home.
The dogs had no water and their bowls were completely dry. Everything from breakfast was exactly where I had left it when I left the house at 7:30 am. Nothing had been done. So I asked M, what have you been doing since you got home at 3:45 pm?
Watching TV.
We’re leaving on a two-week trip in three days. He’s done zero packing, washing, preparation . . . nothing.
Now, I’m not one of those people who will have their house spotlessly clean and the car washed and waxed before I go on a trip, but I would like to avoid it looking like a cyclone has gone through the place. And I do think it’s a good idea to have some climate appropriate clothes packed for this trip that we’ve been planning and have spent A LOT OF MONEY on.
So, I gave the dogs water.
Then, M took the laundry basket downstairs to the laundry room. And sat it there. I went downstairs and emptied it, separated the clothes and then brought the empty basket back upstairs.
I feel like I am constantly bitching about everything. This is not how I want to live my life. I want to appreciate every day. I want to appreciate the time we have together.
I just feel so overwhelmed – as though I’m sitting on a tiny little surfboard on the sand and a wave is growing bigger and bigger in front of me. It’s way over my head and starting to block out the sky. I’ve never had a panic attack, but I think I can understand the forces that would cause one.
I’m the oldest of five children and when I was growing up and my mom would get frustrated with us, she would say she was going to have a running, screaming fit.
Yep, I’m there.