Rainsomniac

I think I’m going crazy. Seriously, I think I’m finally losing it.

Maybe it’s because lately, every minute of every day feels like it’s consumed with fixing something, figuring something out, putting out fires, smoothing ruffled feathers, biting bullets, kissing ass, schmoozing, and fighting illness and fatigue and the accompanying guilt that I can no longer manage these things as well as I used to. From the moment my feet hit the floor to the moment I go to bed, my mind is bombarded with an ever-growing list of things.

The “disco ball” fireplace broke again. There are outside lights that need replaced. The light in the stemware cupboard is out. The start button on the microwave is broken. The light switch in the ice maker on the door of the fridge is going. The upstairs toilet won’t flush. The internet cable service was jacked. The DSL has been installed and all of the Outlook Express mail accounts had to be transfered (which meant doing what it takes not to lose everyone’s passwords, email, and address books). The street lights are out. The doctors office keeps calling every damned morning at 8:24, waking me up, and demanding money that I don’t have. The garage needs cleaned so that I can park my car in it. This is a big house. I’m older than everyone else. I’m sick. I have to work on one job to pay off the garage bill while begging for another job so that we can have Thanksgiving and Christmas. Do the math.

It’s not that I mind doing things for everyone, it’s just that hearing “thank you for…” would make me feel a whole lot less grumpy, resentful, stressed, and taken for granted. Bless Joel’s heart for being a self-starter and taking on a number of responsibilities for me around here without me having to ask. It really helps and I appreciate his initiative and consideration.

For the past two nights, just as I’m drifting off into sleep, I’m wakened by the sound of my own brain reciting the times tables. The first night I got as far as the 7’s before I even realized what I was doing. Last night I was up to the 5’s. And during the day my mind repeats the same phrases over and over until I have to verbally tell myself to stop. I’m counting things, like the number of stays in the shade of my desk lamp and panes in the window.

Don’t feel the need to leave comments, this is just a beef fest; I’ll get over it with another cup of coffee.

7×2 is 14, 7×3 is 21, 7×4 is 28, 7×5 is 35, 7×6 is 42… SHUT UP!