Monday night I pulled out a chart at a booster club meeting, to mark people’s responses for our end of the year banquet. It wasn’t very elaborate. There were columns for those that had confirmed “yes”, “maybe”, and “No reply”. As parents gave me checks and confirmations, I marked and initialed their name. The checks got put in an envelope, the check number noted next to the family’s name and everything was put in a file folder.
“And you wonder where your daughter gets her OCD from, ” chuckled one of my friends.
I paused for a moment. It never occurred to me to handle collecting banquet money any other way. It never crossed my mind to just hand random checks over to our treasurer. The only thought process I had was to collect all the checks, make sure I had a record of what the check numbers were and hand over everything together by the date of the event.
My house is a series of organized chaos. Although there are a few stacks and piles of what some might call family debris, I call organized future projects. Our classroom is the worst of all, especially as we finish this first school year at home and my curriculum for next year is starting to accumulate. Evenings are already being spent listing next year’s subjects, book ideas and possible field trips. I’m starting to worry that I’m going to forget to enjoy the summer and just spend the next three months obsessing about planning our school year. And rather than be excited about sleeping in, bathing in the sun or spending more time catching up on my reading and writing, I am freaking out about getting everyone to their summer camps, sports practices, friends houses and summer school studies. I’m already worried about what to pack for vacation and what to serve when family comes to visit. My heartbeat is pounding picturing myself getting into a pair of shorts or a bathing suits.
I am focused on the unwritten words, the unplanned projects, the disappointing weight gain and lack of motivation. In a moment of weakness yesterday, I went through the Dairy Queen drive through for a Heath Bar Blizzard without the kids, and ate the whole thing before I even got home. And when I opened my blog this morning, my heart sunk further seeing the rapidly decreasing readership and the ever-increasing half-written drafts that will probably never get published.
And, holy crap, I am reminded that I am running a 10k in 10 days and I haven’t run a mile in the last two weeks.
But then this morning, I decided to pour myself another cup of coffee and retreat to my bedroom with my laptop instead of start my morning chores. My bedroom window overlooks the front yard. The sunlight is puny, hiding behind rain-filled clouds, but the birds are still singing sweetly, unaware of the impending showers. I decided to write, write what ever came to mind, and try to purge my mind and spirit of any fragment of anxiety. Already my muscles feel more relaxed, my breathing seems less shallow, and the day seems lighter than before.
Today I am linking up to yesterday’s Things I Can’t Say, but at least I’m linking something, right?