How great is the world flummoxed? How not great is the actual feeling of …. flummoxolity or whatever it is.
Events of the last few weeks have definitely left me flummoxed. About a month ago we said: “we should probably move somewhere cheaper and get a place with a back yard”… and exactly 10 days later we had a new place. It’s the middle of term. I’m working an insane workload, and have just been through the biggest freelance deadline of my life, Lunchbox is swamped, it was Biggie’s birthday … and we just moved house in between all of that.
I’m forgetting simple things. I can’t remember what day it is. I work at something: work, the house, redirecting things, updating things, the kids, other obligations, cleaning, cleaning, CLEANING from the second I wake up to way past my bedtime every night. The house we moved into needed to be scrubbed (and I mean scrubbed) top to bottom before we could put a single thing in a cupboard anywhere. The hot water keeps going out. I didn’t wash my hair for an insufferable period of time.
Meals are rushed, or bought, which adds to the stress. I had to wash one load of washing three times because I forgot it. Emails are coming in with things I forgot to do. I wake up at 2am with the panicked thoughts of WHAT IF I THREW OUT THE CARPET STEAM CLEANING RECEIPT? I DON’T REMEMBER WHERE THE CARPET STEAM CLEANING RECEIPT IS! WILL I NEED TO GO THROUGH THE BIN? THE BIN HERE OR AT THE OLD PLACE? REGULAR OR RECYCLE?
Definite flummoximication around here. I don’t know what’s going on. I joked to a friend I needed a Berocca, and she joked I needed wine. I told her I’d put the Berocca in the wine. This is where I’m at, people. Hanging on by a thread. Oh and I did find the receipt… not in the bin, thankfully.