It’s not even that things are that bad, or that stressful. Sure, I biffed the garage door last week, necessitating that I use the remainder of my personal time from work — until my work anniversary next month, anyway, when my vacation days renew. As far as work itself goes, it’s a little stressful and scattered right now, and there are a few fires to put out, but it’s not making me dread going to work every day or anything. And, yeah, my at-home to-do list is extra-long, but that’s nothing new.

No, I really just feel… well, I can’t really describe it. Not quite stressed out, and not quite overwhelmed. Not so much a defeatist attitude as the feeling that the treadmill is throwing me off the back. Or, for those of you who (like me) watched American Gladiators in the early ‘90s, like I’m holding steady on the Reverse Treadmill at the beginning of the Eliminator.


There are just a bunch of little things that keep piling on and piling on, and I really only have so many hours I can squeeze out of a day — which makes it worse when my mindset isn’t where I’d like it to be and instead of being productive after my son goes to bed, I fall face first into a bag of popcorn and a mini-marathon of Good Eats on Netflix. Or when I waste half an hour figuring out why Google Chrome and Windows 10 don’t seem to play nicely, so I can’t upload a simple image for my blog post without resorting to the new Micro$oft browser, Edge. But anyway.

I’m not going to regurgitate my entire to-do list here, but I have several on-going messes I need to clean up around the house, I have Fall cleanup and planting to tend to in the garden, I have multiple work projects going on at once, and I have a self-imposed deadline of losing 12 pounds in five weeks. Also, thanks to me having to take so much time off in two-hour increments for car maintenance, haircuts, and Connor’s doctor appointments, I am all out of time off of work. (Except actual sick time. I can still get sick.)

If I want to get things done, I need to prioritize and be OK with some things at the bottom of the list not getting done until later — or not at all. It’s a matter of consequences, really. Therein lies the problem: lots of things in my queue have been deprioritized multiple times. I know I would feel happier with a clean home office, a clean closet, family photos framed and hung on the walls, Connor’s notable art projects from school either scanned or framed or put into an album. But it all takes a back seat to the more visible or time-sensitive tasks: gardening, daily household chores, child rearing. And sleep. I need to get to sleep earlier if I want to sleep better.

I’m stuck in the same damn spot on that reverse treadmill. I need a boost — or a new strategy — to get some actual momentum.

Feeling depressed and stressed, on-edge, and I can’t pin down why. But I don’t like it.

Feeling Meh

In the early days of my blog, I had nothing but time. Ten years ago, I’d sit at my computer and ruminate about my life and my job and whatever I thought was important — or was just at the front of my mind.

Now I’ve discovered that I can crank out a few paragraphs on the laptop while my toddler is watching Dora the Explorer, after dinner and before bathtime. It’s good for documenting stuff like a car accident or a morning of gardening, but not so much for sitting and quietly thinking about things. Then, I have maybe an hour after he goes to bed before my brain decides that it’s done for the night — no more thinking and writing and thinking some more until the wee hours (or even until 10:00).

If I didn’t have a small person depending on me this evening, I might have curled up on the couch for a few hours and just read magazines or played on my phone or the laptop. It’s just one of those days. And it’s funny: the fact that I feel kind of meh makes me feel bad for feeling meh. Even though I was in a car accident, I wasn’t injured badly enough for it to really affect my quality of life. I’m feeling better, although I do wish the insurance side of things was moving along a bit more swiftly.

The accident crash report was posted to the police department’s website this morning. As a result, I got ten unsolicited phone calls (one of which went to voicemail) and two unsolicited texts from chiropractors, physical therapists masquerading as accident victim advocacy firms, and personal injury lawyers. I did not, however, get a call from the other guy’s insurance, although I did finally get the agent’s name and number and the claim number.

I’m feeling better physically, but damned if I’m not all tense now about driving on the highway (or, as everyone around here calls it, the “expressway”). Driving is not the joy it once was, partly due to our second car’s lack of punch, and partly due to my new… “phobias” is too strong of a word, so we’ll call them… stressors. People who hug the line. People who tailgate. People who drive alongside me and put me in their blind spot.

I also feel funny just doing this free-writing in my blog. It’s been so long since I felt the need to just vent on my blog about how I’m feeling — partially due to lack of time; and partially due to the fact that, most times, if I need to vent, it’s about a person or an event that really doesn’t need to be public knowledge. (I didn’t used to have that kind of restraint. It surprises me what I can find in my archives.)

I have shit I still need to do tonight. Clean out my son’s humidifier, pack his lunch, pack my lunch, gather my yoga clothes for tomorrow. Maybe I should stop worrying that I sound all mopey and just hit Publish and go get my shit done and go to bed a little early.

Feeling kind of meh this afternoon. Not sure what triggered this: the weigh-in or the gloomy weather. t.co/JJV8qlWtm0