I’m having one of those weeks.
I know I talk about running away to that mythical tropical isle, (or that mythical sailboat so I can visit all the tropical isles) all the time. That’s sort of always running in the back of my head, 24×7. And you know, it could happen, I could just snap one day and off I go.
But I’m having one of those weeks where it doesn’t have to be coconuts and tropical breezes. I’m having one of those weeks where just no fresh problems and no backlog of work and no fucking drama would be – you know, swell. Where just having a couple days all to myself sounds like the next best thing to paradise.
I don’t have time for details today. So let’s just summarize:
Kids school. Headmaster drama. [shudders]
Work. Review time. Too much to do, no idea where to put my attention. Stress and panic all around me. Impossible schedules.
Money. God, life was so much simpler way back when we were all rich for those couple years around the dotcom boom. I keep thinking, one more pay cycle and I’ll have this wild animal under control, and then it breaks free again.
Home. I went on a clean-and-throw-away tear last weekend, and I got halfway and ran out of weekend, which means my house is all garbage bags full of un-sorted kids clothes and the kids rooms are both full of bins of unsorted toys. When it’s done we’ll have a radically much clearer house but meantime it’s a fucking mine field and I don’t have time to touch it; this means everyone’s stressed (is it only me that gets a charge from the chaos?)
Add that to the ever-present list of things to do (bills, laundry, general house maintenance, cooking, cleaning, workouts), and the list of things I wanna do (write, play, teevee, movies, resident evil, read), and I’ve got at least two point five days of stuff for every 24 hours hours of day.
Maybe if I just give up sleeping?