Fall was busy this year: daughter’s 10th birthday; my birthday; my husband’s and my 20th anniversary; husband’s 50th birthday, including a 6-day trip to run across the Grand Canyon; start of school; work schedule ramped up, etc., etc. Nothing that different from the rest of the middle-class world, and all “good” things. It was just a lot of things.
I started sensing I was overwhelmed when the simplest of tasks would induce an audible shitfuckdamn. What would bring on a swear string? Vacuuming, making a meal, a grocery run. No task was too small for a good, full-of-dread shitfuckdamn. I even started not caring whether the kids heard me. Okay, I cared LESS if they heard me.
I kept saying, “I need a break.” Then I got one. Not in the form I was hoping for — three days at a spa in the desert, having my bed made, my room cleaned, healthy meals cooked for me, tea and water ready for the asking, massages given, pedicures had and hot tubs and saunas by the plenty. No, this break came in the form of a virus that had me breathing through abdominal pain like it was childbirth, causing every muscle in my body to hurt (even my eye lids!) and planting me on the couch, unable to eat, drink or do anything besides sleep for 3 straight days.
WHAT A DREAM!! No meal planning! No cooking! No unloading the dishwasher! No seeing how poorly the dishwasher was being loaded! No dog walks, lunches to make, work outs to squeeze in, work to race to, house cleaning, …. It was Just The Thing.
Now I don’t dread everything and I go about my day happily, actually looking forward to what comes next. Shitfuckdamn, I should market that virus.
Categories: general humor