Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat. Just not too fast or you’ll pass out. But wouldn’t passing out be kind of like napping? That’s not so bad. Is it?
The past couple of weeks, I have been running hard. Well, emotionally, not physically – that’s a whole other issue.
Twice recently have I had to run through an airport as the gate chick was paging me. Twice. I’m perpetually two hours early for every flight I take. On the way back from New Mexico, I literally ran from my rental car, keys in the ignition and yelled, “E-mail me my receipt, please!” as I bolted to get my back checked in time.
I absolutely hate to be rushed, but it seems like my MO these days. Everything I do is at such a frantic pace that I can’t find the time to enjoy the little things.
But I’m trying.
Even my friends have noticed that I seem distracted. I’ve started to feel like I’m overwhelmed. Like I have too many commitments and I’m doing nothing well. I’m starting to wonder when I will break. It’s not a matter of ‘if’ anymore. Something’s gotta give.
I’m thankful for everyone in my life and for their patience. So far, nobody has left me nasty messages or hate mail because I’m too overwhelmed to answer the phone. So far.
In the meantime, I’m hanging in there, letting projects pile up and to-do lists gather dust.
I find solace in my quiet time after Ava has gone to sleep. I try to recharge. Have a glass of red and clear my head for a few minutes. And then sleep for a bit before it all begins again.