I know it’s been a long time since I posted the events of the day
the day they happen. This certainly isn’t going to be a cheery,
everything’s-coming-up-roses kind of post. And I don’t even have time to be doing this today.
Just humor me. We’ll call this cheap therapy. And maybe, years from now –
or maybe in the eternities – I can figure out what happened to today.
To set the scene: Anyone who knows me well, happens to follow me on Facebook, or has paid even the slightest hair of attention to this blog, will know that I am a stressed-out person. Okay,
okay. ‘Stressed-out’ doesn’t
begin to cover it … but that’s what I’m sticking with. I do
not have time for quote-unquote, ‘disasters’. My mentality of late (separate from the stressed-out business) hasn’t been that grand, either. So that coupled with the other means that I am just an all-around gem.
I mean, I snapped a remote in half the other day, for goodness sake.I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this to any of you.
Once, twice or a million times. So, just to ensure that all bases are covered, I’ll say it:
I hate my washing machine.Now, before anyone starts spouting off the
you-should-be-thankful-for-your-washing-machine’s … let me say something. I
am thankful for my washing machine. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. And I don’t. Mainly because it is more of a headache than a convenience at times.
Today was such a time.
It all started when I started smelling burning rubber.
I don’t know what was causing that smell. I never found out what the problem was. But I figured out a system that would appease the tired, old, decrepit thing, so that I could complete my 13 loads – and I
do mean, 13 loads – of laundry.
Said system added about 8 hours to the task.
About half-way through the chore, I opened the washer lid to take out some clean clothes. Some suspicious white
something caught my eye. Instinctively, I feared a bleach mishap. Because I had been using bleach.
No.Everything was covered – and I
do mean, covered – in little, teensy scraps of tissue.
I don’t know how a tissue got into the washer in the first place. If you’ve ever seen me do laundry –
and I pray to all that’s holy that you haven’t, because I’m kind of a nut – you will know that I inspect everything before putting it in or taking it out. Blame it on the OCD. Blame it on past experiences with said washing machine.
Whatever the reason … I had a
s.e.r.i.o.u.s mess on my hands.
Thankfully – and I
do mean, thankfully – I was able to get every morsel off with a brisk shaking. Otherwise, there would have been hell to pay. Of
that, you can be certain. Take a glance at the aftermath … and note that this is only a very,
very miniscule section of it.
It was all very unpleasant. I immediately began to have
horrible flashbacks of all of the
horrible good times this retched washing machine and I had on Woodburn Drive. This was the first time since our move that that appalling thing has acted up. I pray this isn’t the beginning of the end.
Bring on the déjà vu.I share these events with you not as part of a plight to get a new washing machine. It’s on the list and will be taken care of when the time is right.
No … I just wanted to let you know that this is the story of my life.
And maybe yours, too.When I am very busy, desperately trying to accomplish serious business – a day like this crops up.
Always. Today for instance, I was doing laundry so that I can pack for our upcoming trip this weekend. One I’m stressing out about and ready to get over with. I also needed to tackle at least one page of
the four-page to-do list. Needless to say, it didn’t happen.
It’s more than that, though. More than the washing machine and all the other things that happened today to make the day
rotten. I’m in over my head. I’m really tired. I’m
really frazzled.
People frequently make
I-don’t-know-how-you-do-it comments to me. People think I can do anything and everything. My, but that’s flattering.
It is. But, I wish I could say that I didn’t know how I do it, either. But I
do know. It comes with ultimate sleep deprivation, panic attacks, psoriasis, nausea, ulcer-like symptoms, and depression … to name a
very few. So, please don’t be jealous of me … and all that I can do.
It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.I’m tired of being stressed-out. And I think that’s why my motivation level is at an all-time low. I’ve been having a very hard time focusing. Something that I have never had a problem with before. I do not enjoy things the way I usually do. I’m tired of saying, “If I can just get through this next week.”
Last night, I had every intention of staying up for a while and work on some things. Not all night ... just a while. I had my list all planned out. I could have done it.
All. I could have been done with those things, and been in good shape for today.
But I didn’t. Not because I was necessarily tired. But because I didn’t necessarily
want to do it … and I convinced myself that I could do it all ‘
the next day’.
Denial. I think that’s the word I’m looking for.
This morning, I got up and started piddling around … doing a little of
this and a little of
that but
none of what I
should have been doing. I found that I had a maniacal amount of energy to box up our Halloween decorations.
Finally, yes.
On my list, no. I wrapped and organized and sorted and boxed. I took quite a bit of time doing it …
even though I didn’t have time to be doing it in the first place.
Procrastinate. I think that’s the word I’m looking for.
After I put away the Halloween trappings, I decided to put out all of our new Fall/Thanksgiving décor. We have all sorts of new goodies this year … but I had already decided, considering all that was on my plate and how behind I am, that I wasn’t going to go all out this year. That I would save it all for the next season.
Guess what I did? Since we paid for it, we should use it … right away.
Justify. I think that’s the word I’m looking for.
What’s a girl to do? What am
I to do? I could scream and shout and throw a tantrum. I could huff and puff and cuss. I could cry. I could crack open that Sunkist and chocolate that is in the fridge.
{
Snort} Like there was ever any competition.
All of the above.
What would it be like
