Lately I've been feeling like I'm drowning in the amount of stuff I have to do. It's not a particularly obscene amount of things, but it's just been weighing me down. We're teaching Sunday school, getting through Financial Peace University and all the homework/budgeting/money conversations that entails, trying to eat, exercise, sleep, do dishes, maintain our sanity, and keep our home livable. Not to mention spend some amount of quality time together that doesn't involve sleeping or talking about money.
It's been a balancing act, and since my stress level catapulted through the stratosphere (side note: I'm not even really sure what the stratosphere really is) in September I've been really consciously trying to take it easy and make time for myself. My brain tells me that if I keep stressing and powering through everything it's going to try and escape. And you have no idea how many migraines and auras I've dealt with in the past 60 days because I've even lost count myself.
The past two days I've just been feeling this crushing sense of commitment to get things done, budget, clean, sleep, exercise, time mange and do better. Well if that's not stressful then I don't know what is.
Yesterday I felt like an absolute hobo. I've been doing so well trying to feel good in what I wear, motivating myself to stop caring what others think and wear my clothes with confidence. If it sounds cliched that's because it totally is but it's working. People really don't care if my jeans are a little too faded or if the shoulders of my blazer are a little square. I bought that blazer for $20 knowing that it wasn't the nicest one out there, but that it was the only one in my price range. No. One. Cares. And if they do they're probably not worth worrying about anyway.
But yesterday I failed. My house is too messy and my laundry is turning into some sort of swirling vortex of fury that will only spit out clothes a week after I want them. I'm pretty sure my black dress pants are somewhere in the Delta Quadrant right now. Maybe the Caretaker is living in my laundry pile. That would explain a lot...
(If you understood that reference you are my favourite person right now. It made me really happy to make it, too.)
Since I couldn't find anything I wanted to wear, most notably my black pants, I ended up wearing an odd assortment of things that are nice on their own but didn't do so well together. You ever try wearing dress pants with boots that just keep wanting to bunch around your knees? That was me. I was cursing my grey polyester pants long before lunch time ever rolled around.
Today, though, everything just feels... better. Without even realizing it our budget is set up and I have hardly any more work to do in Quicken before we're reading to start using it to control and track our ever financial move for the rest of our lives (do it for the house.... do it for the house... do it for the house...). Not to mention I'm wearing one of my favourite dresses and it's hard not to feel good when that happens.
I thought the next couple weeks were just going to be a marathon of trying to get by with the bare minimum but I realized that all of a sudden everything is now manageable. I have about an hour left of money stuff to figure out and then I can get back into the normal everyday life things. Like cleaning the toilet.
I actually have a confession to make. I just realized it this morning, but I honestly do not remember the last time I folded laundry. I have no idea. None. I think it was in September. Judge away.
Tonight Karl is going out so I'll probably be home by myself. I am SO excited. There's just something so liberating about being able to do things on my own time, how I want, when I want, and in front of whatever TV show I want. The plan is to go for a run, eat something at some point (likely pop chips and quinoa), finish up the sweater I've been seeming and maybe even tackle folding the laundry from the past month (not to be confused with the pile of gently worn laundry that is taking over our bedroom).
Don't tell me you don't get excited about a night at home, too, with the laundry pile. I know you do.