stressed out
Ever have the feeling that if you just make it past tomorrow things will be alright? If only whatever you had to do was over and life could just go on the way it's supposed to?
Well, I'm staying up late to give the finger to tomorrow. I'm staying up late to write. I'm staying up late to work on an oral report I'm supposed to give in class tomorrow.
And if I can make it through tomorrow, with all my eggs balanced on my spoons and no mud in my nose, then I'll be just fine.
Until the next thing.
Internet's been down all week at the house. My landlord doesn't really like the orange. Eric's been weird all week. I put school on pause during the week of Thanksgiving. Ate too much. Worked, didn't work. Laundry pile got sorted and abandoned. Watched way too much Buffy the Vampire Slayer (season five). Haven't been writing much, school or otherwise. Trying to keep it all together. Working on the juggle. There's about ten things I'm dealing with at any given moment and at least five more standing by, clamoring for my attention.
So when my roommate started in on a coaxing and supportive speech about how stressed out I've been lately...well, all I could do was laugh. Yes, this is how absolutely absurd my life has become, because now, painfully aware of my every action, I have an audience.
And they care.
And they want to help.
It's sweet and a little ridiculous, but short of wearing masks and emulating me so that they can stand in for me when I'm otherwise occupied, there's nothing they or anyone else can do, but apparently, sit by and watch the diaster waiting to happen.
Get your popcorn and soda, because I'm on a collision course with life.
See, it's not that I'm stressed. I have time management issues. I have a hard time saying no to things I enthusiastically say yes to. I want everything. I want it all.
Delirious? Maybe. Derisive? Perhaps. Deluded? No.
I can have it all. I do have it all. It's just that my life is like a roulette wheel, and I'm like the little ball whirling around it and whatever I land on is where I am for that moment, and there are some slots that are there, but often vacant, yet vital, I mean without the black nine, where would the other slots go? but I don't land on them as much or as frequently as say other slots in which I gleefully chase and leap into.
ah, metaphors.
But I know some of you that are already nodding, very very keen on what I mean.
I just can't be in thirty two places at once, no matter how much I want to.
So anyway. cheers.
posted by stine @ 1:49 AM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Terror stricken, panicked, I strode into the first floor of the building that my 1:30 class is in (it gathers on the twelfth floor, however), past the elevators, to the library to produce handouts, copies of the selection of The House of The Spirits that is manadatory for my oral report.
Things begin beeping, the copier is jammed. It is 1:29. Dammit.
I move to another copier that only takes dimes. One at a time.
I make a copy that is blurry, cut off, a waste.
1:31. Crap.
I manage to make ten decent looking copies.
1:42. Way late. Grrr.
Elevators, rising, arrival, running down the halls, open the door. No class. They have descended to the eleventh floor for a Fiction Department Reading. I race down the stairs, nearly missing a step and losing my limbs. I cannot be later than fifteen minutes. It is why I am acting like a maniac to get to class.
I open the door to the eleventh floor and there is a huge group, a class, waiting in a line to get into the reading.
1:47. I should just give up.
I make it into the room and my teacher is surprised to see me.
All my preparation and worrying about this stinking oral report has been lost, because now that the class is at the reading, we are having a guest speaker, we won't have enough time to do the oral report...unless...
But in class, everyone else who's been pushed back a week (due to the teacher's surprise call off of a class two weeks ago) is eager to go. So I begin to relax, feeling the glaze of relief smear over me.
No oral reporting for me.
Next week, there's no excuse for my not being totally and absolutely prepared.
Not like there ever is anyway.
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