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.

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