Talk Thursday: My, My Times Flies

I should feel like I just came home from vacation, except that seems as though it was years ago instead of three months ago. As I put away my Christmas tree Saturday afternoon it was with some shock, because I’d had my run up to Christmas planned out. None of that happened. None.

After coming home from Vegas October 2nd, I knew it was just a week until Halloween. Two weeks until Thanksgiving, and I had a whole three weeks until Christmas. WTFarve happened to Thanksgiving? I have no memory of turkey, cranberries, and pumpkin pie.

I had begun filling out my Christmas cards November 1st now suddenly it was the weekend before Christmas half my cards were still in the box. I had one batch of kahlua made (one batch does not a case make, let alone two.) Only one of my packages (to this day) had/have gone out. Crap, I still had presents to buy.

Our family Christmas weekend went off with nary little a hitch. But now it was the run up to Christmas. Psam and Burp were home for the week, Ducky’s vacation began Christmas Eve. I thought I had everything under control – that is I thought I had everything under control until it all began to unravel.

I’d begun taking Ally again in my non-ending effort to control my weight. I’d lost 20 pounds before but had begun feeling less than 100 percent. So I’d stopped taking the pills. Darn I had really liked them. What the heck they’d been helping, lets take the pills again.

Now I try to be truthful. I try to do all that is asked of me, and if possible I try to do it at the best level I can possibly do it. And do it now. I feel no one is indispensable (especially not me,) but darn I try to be as close to indispensable as can be. Not feeling one hundred percent, still not completely over whatever bug I’d brought back from Vegas, and not living up to the pressures of life and job I was beginning to drown – no treading of water, no paddling of dog, no, this was full blown going down for the second count drowning. Wednesday before Christmas a 4-minute programming failure ruined what should have been perfect holiday programming. I became physically unglued, emotionally unglued, and bat shit crazy. Yes, I am my worse enemy, but really I was ready to quit my job or have a heart attack. My boss talked me down.

Then Roger talked me down.

Then Burp gave me one of his glorious hugs.

After a beautiful Christmas morning with my favorite people and then Christmas dinner, I suddenly became so sick I was in bed by 7 o’clock and slept past noon the following day.
Assuming I once was, I am still not right. I have no energy, can tasted the poison in my system, but the headaches and sore throat have gone.

Radio Auction and the birthday days will be here in a week or so. The Home & Garden Show in three weeks. Easter will be here in a flish of a flash, and Rhody Weekend, oh crap time is flying by and there isn’t enough of me, neither mentally or competently to go around. I have set my level of action and reaction so high my overload is constantly overwhelmed.

I desperately need time to slow a bit or a clone, crap I probably need both. While I may have high mental health numbers, I am relatively certain neither will happen. So I will face each day, one at a time, and in moments of blue funks and high mental health numbers I will put on a pair of my Christmas socks and work at having a bit of quite time and better day.
Sith
Cele
Thank heavens for Christmas Socks.