Day 55
This morning I wrenched from my dog’s mouth a beanie baby. A little red bull that she was happily carrying around the house. It wasn’t until after I used the Jaws of Life to get the thing separated from her that I realized it was NOT a beanie baby … but her dog toy.
Ugh. I think I’m losing it.
Losing it … going nuts … packing my bag to go off to the funny farm. I’m going over the edge, bananas, beserk, bonkers, haywire and off my rocker. I’m loco, loony, cuckoo, daffy, and batty. I’m bugged out, freaked out, cracked up, whacko and a mental case.
Plain and simple, I’m going crazy!
Stress, too much stuff to do, not enough good sleep, not eating right, no fun, no activity (except packing boxes) … all contribute to my current mental state. I keep saying my next book will be “Searching for Utopia … While Living in the State of Confusion”.
One is always advised to write about what they know … and, sadly, I know this well!
I have a business to run. I have a product (yet) to make and design and put into my computer … transfer it from my personal computer (brain) to my laptop. It takes hours and hours to do this. And what am I spending my time on?
Packing.
Packing, packing and more packing. I’m on Box 317. Oh dear god. It should be illegal to live in a house for 26 years. I knew SOMEDAY that this would be my reality … packing up our lifetime of things and memories and trinkets and treasures (and a few oddities – like the Godzilla drink holder … that I just packed because I LOVE it!) … but I am embarrassed by the amount of STUFF I have in this house.
All of it – the excess, the gluttony, the over abundance, the sheer volume of things I need to go through is overwhelming and is … making me crazy!
And, though I say that, I don’t think I’m a clear candidate for the loony bin … just yet. Come mid May I might be a few steps closer but right now, even though I think I’m losing it, I know I’m not … not really … it just feels like it.
I think I’d like to go on a field trip to a padded cell … just to blow off some steam! Scream a little, run into a wall … sounds like a new therapy center. I might just open one up in the Chicago area when I get there … if I make a zillion dollars it’ll pay for the taxes on my new place for the first year!
In the meantime, I’m packing and stealing dog toys from my poor, confused animals!
It’ll all get done … and two months from now things will have all settled down and will be fine and dandy and all the anxiety I feel now will be just a distant memory and I’ll be able to laugh about it.
But for now, I’ve got to go and get busy. More packing to do and I have to find my marbles … seems I have lost them!