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”