Living in a world of chaos these days, I’m finding it challenging to stick with any one course of action longer than a bird can stay on one tree branch. There is so much to do in preparation for moving 3,000 square feet of stuff to God only knows where, and I’ve been running around like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off. I haven’t even been able to concentrate long enough to write in the past few days. Now that’s distracted.
Just this morning, I was going through a pile of stuff that Will had set out for me when I got a wild hair and decided I was going to go through my 500 or so bottles of nail polish and get rid of most of them. About halfway through that, I decided I’d better get back to weeding out the other stuff and box up what we’re not going to sell at our garage sale next weekend. (Gotta make some money somehow.) By the time I finally accomplished the thing (whee! one box filled already!) I’d forgotten about the nail polish and sat down at the computer to try and find something to write about. I’ve been trying for two days and come up with nothing, despite the fact that there’s plenty going on.
I’m not manic or even hypo, but my thoughts are racing and I feel speeded up, like I need to keep moving even though I’m not sure where I want to go or what I want to do. My baseline mood is decent, although I’ve been irritable at times, once to the point where Will made a remark about it the other day. Even writing feels pressured, as if I’m wasting time by sitting here typing when I really need to be doing something else.
I still can’t eat much, despite the fact that my UTI has cleared up and I don’t feel nauseated anymore—I just have no appetite. I get hungry, but nothing sounds good so I usually don’t bother until Will puts food under my nose and tells me to eat. The only thing I’ve eaten in over a week that tasted good at all was the tacos my daughter, Mandy, made last night. She cooks the meat with the seasonings for over two hours. It’s a long wait, but well worth it. Now, I’m back to where it’s going on 3 in the afternoon and I still haven’t eaten…..there’s just too much else to do.
In the meantime, my son Ethan is looking for places close to where he and his husband Clark live. I don’t want to move to a city, especially one that’s miles away from everything and everyone we know, but we can’t rule it out. Logic tells me that there’s more housing and more jobs up there, and Ethan may very well be right. It also doesn’t hurt my feelings that they want us near them so we can see each other more often.
Which reminds me, I’d better get back to going through that last batch of nail enamel. Think I’ll sell the good stuff at our garage sale…..young girls love that shit. It’s a small step, to be sure, but at least it’s moving forward. Even though we haven’t got the foggiest idea of where we’re going!
It’s not a symptom that you are worried and panicky, it is a normal reaction to an extremely stressful situation. Yes you need to monitor yourself but not everything is pathological. Wish I could help you sort through things! Is there any part of you that is excited, too?
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No—I hate moving worse than sin, and not having a place to move TO yet is more than a little anxiety-inducing. I’d feel much better if I were working….it would make getting a new place a lot easier!
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