Currently, I am sitting at the living room table surrounded by small piles of random pieces of paper that my darling and beloved husband likes to collect in the office. You see, I MOVED the pieces of paper, like a demented hamster doing spring cleaning, from the office TO the living room table, because I had “Tidy Office” on my to-do list and I can’t “Tidy Office” because it’s buried.
It’s hard. My life.
Darling and Beloved is such a little hoarding pain in my rear. I know, Darling and Beloved, that as soon as I actually toss that crumpled piece of paper with this on it:
My Biznatch ##349995
IT WILL THEN PROVE TO BE THE ACTUAL PASSWORD FOR WORLD PEACE.
That’s right, folks. WORLD PEACE does have a password. And it’s in our office. Also, its username is PROBABLYNOTTODAY.
So, we are back from our family vacation in Maine. Remember Maine? There were goats there. And the ocean. I think there are actually more pictures but my Darling Beloved took them all and has not shared them with me. Perhaps he is hoarding them because he has issues. I don’t know. I did get a lot of pictures of goats, but here is one non-goat picture on my phone:
Ah Maine. I miss you.
So, now that we’re back in the land of Reality, I find myself wandering aimlessly from room to room, so overwhelmed with Things To Do that I pick up one trinket, wipe under it, put trinket back down, and then I go sit down. I think I am having what is called Post Vacation Meh.
This is also known as “PVM.” It’s diagnosable. Look it up (probably not, but maybe. And if it’s not IT SHOULD BE. LISTEN TO ME, MEDICAL COMMUNITY. HAVE YOU NO HEART?)
But, here’s the deal. It’s life. We do the cool things, and then in between them there is all this sort of normal or semi-boring things. And actually, most of those semi-boring things are pretty ok too.
But not cleaning the office. It’s not my happy place. Pray for me, folks. When you Darling Beloved views home decor as an impediment to his endless piles of small pieces of paper, it’s daunting.
Perhaps this ailment is also diagnosable.
Oh, I know. It’s called Marriage.
Ohhhhh, SNAP Momsie. Here, let me show you a picture of my Darling Beloved pretending he’s Clint Eastwood at the beach, to temper the snark.
He is cute, huh? But I will tell you it’s a good thing the blanket is there because HOLY WHITENESS. IT WAS BLINDING.
I have found the best way to deal with all this Meh? Just gratitude. Just simple, easy-peasy, out-loud saying of the gratitudes. When I am overwhelmed because little tufts of fur are swirling around the legs of the dining room table because we have ungrateful cats who are fluffy? I say, “Thank you, Lord, for the cats. And for the table, where we dine occasionally when we wanna be fancy. And that we are not starving and have to eat the cats.” That sort of thing.
It is a weird escalation, with the gratitudes, but you know? I let my brain go where it wants. It plays nicer that way.
If I’m feeling a bit stressed out by the condition of the office? I say, “Thank you Lord, that we have a designated place to pay bills and be all grownup, and that we have the money for those bills. For reals. And, yes, for Darling Beloved because he helps pay the bills and we aren’t starving and have to eat our cats.”
That sort of thing. It works. Perhaps you will minus the eating of beloved pets part. Your call.
And, another thing: I found this meme whilst looking for pictures of cats who are stressed out about their To-Do list (it’s a thing, people. With the internet, you can find anything). And to me? Really? REALLY? I’M THINKING THE LAST THING ON THE PLANET THAT WOULD MAKE ME HAPPY IS SITTING ON THE EDGE OF A FLIPPING CLIFF.
Perhaps that’s just me.