The furniture is coming, TODAY, sometime between 1:00 and 1:30 p.m. (!!!)
The dominating emotion I’m currently experiencing can only be described as anxiety. And it’s not just the living room, but a mixture of work, life, laundry, and a to-do list that has grown out of control. My plate is full. I cannot heap anything more upon it. If I do, well, something is going to get screwed up.
I shouldn’t have had that huge latte this morning. I don’t think it helped the muscle spasms that are occuring directly behind my eyeballs.
I have a fear that I’m going to forget something important, like, say, my children. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve looked at the clock in a panic because I am afraid that my cluttered mind has blocked out the fact that I have to pick Emma up at school.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out
What I need is a palm pilot that keeps track of the daily minutia. It must have an alarm clock and a strap so I can hang it around my neck, because you know, otherwise I’d lose it.
Or maybe a notebook and bubble wrap will do… :)
Edited to add: accumulated stress and too much cake-and-icecream eating this past weekend has resulted in a pimple the size of Montreal making a sudden appearance on my face. Why is it that the Very Worst Facial Blemishes occur at the Worst Possible Times and at the VERY DEAD CENTRE of my face … like on the tip of my nose or in the middle of my forehead, or in this case, the middle of my chin. Why meeeeeeeeeee?
Nature is just plain evil.
