I had one of those moments walking from the bedroom out to the living area this morning, where there was so much to do today, tomorrow, the next day, the days and weeks and months after that, that my shoulders sagged and my chest tightened and my legs very much wished to turn around and take the rest of my body straight back to bed. Or to the couch where I could find a book, or anywhere but in the middle of this growing domestic storm. Sometimes, when I feel like that, I get a little paralysed, a little like I can't go back or forward and I stay in a metaphorical holding pattern until the tyranny of the urgent gets too loud to ignore.
As a coping mechanism, this tends to be generally Not Recommended.
Partly to cope, I've taken on more creative challenges. Don't ask me how it works, but the more work I have to do, the more play I am compelled to indulge in. I've been sketching and making and planning more makings. There's a hexagon quilt, three (?) crochet rugs, embroidered cushions, cowls, a scarf, socks, a stripey jumper/cross poncho thing (don't even ask), a couple more necklaces, some curtain revamping and yarn dying ... loads. When I can get to them.
My university work is also expanding, I am doing full-time courses this semester, a 50hr/week load, including two heavy-going neuropsychology courses, which are as interesting as they are hard. I have been hired as a casual marker, so I get to give my own grades out, both gratifying and time consuming. The garden is sad and neglected, but it's winter, and boggy, and I have tea to brew inside my nice warm kitchen to occupy me instead. I bought new gumboot shoes to cope with the mud, but so far their main purpose in life has been to sit on my kitchen steps and look cheerful. They are good at their job.
So forgive me if my appearances here are a little lean and short on the words ... I start posts a lot, spend an hour or two on them, return to a textbook or a chore or an appearance at a school event, and then ... by the time I get back to it, the moment's gone. I will always come back here at some point, always. Promise.
Must run, and do dishes and washing and get a few things prepared for the girls' dance performance tomorrow (one of several, sigh), locate and download a dozen journal articles, format a word document and read a couple of chapters of a textbook - three and a quarter hours to go until midnight, it can be done, right? That's what I thought too.
(My neuropsychology professor emailed me the results of my first assignment, a test we sat a week or so ago. 92%, she said, great effort, "especially as you're a busy mum". We'd been in class for 7 hours a day that week, Iona had been unwell with a nasty virus that kept her awake most the night, so I hadn't slept much (and she was home alone, so I was messaging her from class all day), I had a few small jobs to do that were due the next day, Warren was (is) working 5am - 7pm, Eilidh had a blood test that had to be done and meds that needed renewing, Nathan had a drama assessment that we were all to attend, along with the need to practice and be picked up late. Or maybe that was the week after, it gets to be a blur. On top of that, the usual cleaning, cooking, shopping. Busy mum - somehow, it just didn't capture the half of it.)
*Annie Dillard. You didn't think I could write a 600 word post and not put a quote in there somewhere did you? Pfffft.