I have so much to do. I always have so much to do. In fact, I have piles and piles of unfinished organizational chores on top of the regular, every day chores. Just to list them, think about them or look at them makes me go numb. I can't move. It's like being in the middle of a large field at night. I don't know which direction to take and if I do move toward one dark tree line or the other, I fear I may get lost. So, I just stay there in the middle where I am safe, doing nothing. I sigh deep sighs, try to sleep, and feel exhausted.
My spirit deflates.
I am miserable.
Even my personality has altered. The once bubbly, people personality I walked around with has turned inward. I feel as if I am staring out of my wide eyes at a world that I don't understand and don't really want to understand. I dread when the phone rings. I don't have time. I dread opening the front door to step outside for even a short invigorating walk. I have too much to do.
I have so much to do, but it seems nothing gets done. It's absurd. Some will say it's because I have a toddler and I'm very pregnant. True. But, I don't think that's all of it. I'm just me and I'm just a slow-moving-overwhelmed kind of person.
This is why I write, at least tonight. I write to do something. I write to complete something. I write to feel I have accomplished something. Maybe now I can tackle that basket of laundry, those crumbs on the counter and that room full of toys...maybe...
update: I was able to accomplish, at least a little bit, after this post. Life does go on!