Boxing it up

Two years after moving into my house, I still can’t park my car in the garage because there’s so much removal stuff jammed in there.

Boxes are stacked everywhere.

I’m a little ashamed of that chaos and my failure to resolve it.

My chest feels a bit like my garage at the moment. So many panic-inducing things boxed up inside it.

Each “box” contains a different problem: financial stuff; divorce stuff; parenting stuff; health stuff; diet & exercise stuff; guilt stuff …

I’m a little ashamed of that chaos too and my failure to resolve it.

I can close the door to my garage and pretend the mess isn’t there.

It’s a bit trickier with the metaphorical boxes.

My way of coping is to deal with the boxes  one at a time. It feels more manageable that way. If I opened them all at once I think I’d lose the plot.

But the boxes aren’t behaving themselves – they’re popping open in the middle of the night. I struggle to keep a lid on them as I try to go to sleep, then they wake me with a start several times a night.

Getting the lids back on again can take up to an hour.

I am tired.

Fortunately, it’s not getting me down too much. Well, just a little, every now and then.

I did lose the plot a bit when my dad ended up in hospital again over the weekend. Just a scare, he’s back home now.

DD, bless his lovely heart, drove me two hours to Newcastle for a one-hour visit at the coronary care unit, then drove me two hours home again.

He’s a keeper, that one.

We took cupcakes for afternoon tea. I felt naughty shuffling into the coronary care unit with a Tupperware container of cupcakes. Cupcakes seem sort of wrong in a coronary care unit. But they were very yummy, homemade by the youngest and I (we whipped up a few dozen for an all-day band workshop the eldest was attending at at her high school).

Whipping up cupcakes and dashing to Newcastle kinda put the box sorting schedule back a bit – I feel like I’m failing more than I’m winning.

But I remind myself that while life is challenging, it is generally good.

I just need to look at my Margaret River happy snaps – or DD behind the steering wheel on the way up the F3 – to be reminded of that.

Song of the day: Pete Seeger “Little Boxes”

3 thoughts on “Boxing it up

  1. Feeling for you. Always let the happy times be more important. It is too easy to let the worries of things not completed (haha, or even started), to overtake your thoughts. Especially at night time!!!

  2. I know all about boxes (metaphorical and real). I’m finally tackling the real boxes in the Room of Doom (aka our office) after three years, and I’m gingerly opening the metaphorical ones. I agree: you can only manage one at a time.

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