Lately life has been kicking my ass. And I HATE that. Not that, by any means, I am a swirling dervish of energy moving Tasmanian Devil style from one point to the next. It’s no secret that my couch is one of my favorite places to be. But I think that the emotional exertion of life the past week or so has just knocked me flat.

It probably started with last weekend and all the build up to the mother’s day dinner. And the power did come back on. Even before people got here. That was the least of it. Just stressing about my family and his family all in one place and WHO is going to say something inappropriate first? How drunk is my uncle going to get? Which embarrassing story is my mother going to lead off with? And it’s all stress that I put solely on myself because everyone behaved beautifully; they always do.

But I think that because I was so consumed with making this perfect evening for mother’s day, I didn’t have a chance to prepare my head and my house for the week ahead. I didn’t have a mental calendar of what was going on in the coming week. I didn’t have dinners planned or a grocery list made. I hadn’t cleaned out the refrigerator or done laundry. (You know… things I used to do on Mondays when I had no responsibility and a job that a half trained chimp or maybe even George Bush could probably figure out.)

The oddest thing was that despite my ill-preparedness, Monday had the balls to show up anyway. And then Tuesday. And instead of catching up, each day has me feeling further and further behind. Like I’m in slow-motion quicksand. Even this evening as I’m sitting here in a perfectly quiet house KNOWING that I should be catching up on laundry or doing… SOMETHING (even just throwing away the vase of peonies sitting in front of me as it is wafting a particularly impressive funk in my general direction but I GREW THEM. They are from my yard and made me feel very garden-y. Not at all like the person who thought she had managed to kill a beautiful peace lily until three different people looked at it and told her/me it was obviously defective and she/I should return it immediately.)

Wait… what was I talking about?

See? It’s that. I know there are people who are trying to keep up with kids and jobs and husbands and parents and dogs and soccer games and clarinet lessons and homework and things that I can’t even think of. But this is my life. And for whatever reason, it’s wearing me slap out. Just a general off-kilter-ness that only dares to explain itself in dreams. Every night something else. A forgotten class. A crumbling marriage. Travel plans gone terribly wrong. I can’t explain it but I am starting to fear that something is just out on the horizon. Just hanging out waiting to swoop in for the kill. I guess I’d better get some fucking rest so I can spike it back out of my universe whenever it does show up.

Oh hell. This doesn’t even make any sense. Maybe I just need a haircut and some snappy blonde highlights.