Every time I get into my car, it screams at me. Something about it needing to get serviced or something. Which reminds me, taxes are due very soon so I guess I need to take care of that whole ordeal if I want to stay out of prison.
My deck needed to be pressure washed like, three years ago, but since I haven’t fit it in, the algae growing on it is multiplying and haunting my dreams. Also, none of my sinks are draining properly and I never remember to snake them until I’m scrubbing off my makeup late at night and the last thing I want to do is play plumber.
Parent-teacher conferences are around the corner, so there goes three evenings — one for each child. I need to find the time to take my kids to get new shoes since their feet grow like dandelions. My calendar is reminding me it’s almost Valentine’s Day and I guess I should get something for my lovely babies and plan something special since I’ve done it every other year since they’ve been alive.
I try to knock one thing off the list each day, sometimes two if the planets are aligned. If I get up a a few hours early, I have enough caffeine, and nobody fucks with me, sometimes I can make it happen. It takes a lot keep my head above water. But, the adult tasks won’t stop coming. Every week, a bunch of new shit comes up behind me, kicks me in the ass and tries to ruin my life.
Just last week I went to have my oil changed, got new wiper blades put on, and went through the car wash. I was feeling drunk with the power of 100 mothers and now I need to make the time to head back to the dealership to take care of the damn service light and kill another afternoon. Honestly, I probably won’t get to it for another few months because that is all I can seem to manage.
My life feels like an ongoing game of chasing my tail and wondering when the hell things are going to slow down. You know how it is: The second you feel caught up and like things are falling into place, the roof needs replacing, there isn’t a single person in your house who has underwear that fits, and you realize the car was due for an inspection two months ago.
I stood staring into the bathroom mirror last night after washing my face, talking myself down because all the things that needed tending to were spinning in my head. I need a vacation just to catch up on life, and I need it bad.
I’m not talking about a week to get away, although it would be a dream if I could tell all my responsibilities to fuck off, hope my taxes took care of themselves, and sip alcohol out of melons and coconuts for a stretch.
While I’d settle for a staycation so I could get in some relaxation and catch up with friends I haven’t seen in months, I feel like I need to designate an entire week to just getting shit done. Not the fun shit, but that kind of shit you have to do in order to keep your home, vehicle, and bank account safe. You know, the sucky shit.
I need to have my tires rotated. Dentist appointments need to be made. I’m due for a date with my gynecologist and the stirrups. Gray hairs are sprouting out of my noggin and just finding a moment to call my stylist feels like a huge ask lately.
Lacrosse season is creeping up and my daughter needs new equipment. I don’t want to get some of the laundry done so my kids can wear matching socks, I want to catch up on it and have it all done. Wouldn’t that be a fucking treat?
I should probably use that carpet shampooer I invested in last year since my rugs have holiday hangovers, and if I don’t tend to my hot mess of a Tupperware cupboard soon I’m going to lose it the next time I need to find a container with a matching lid. It’s not going to be pretty. Oh, aren’t you supposed to clean out your dryer-lint-catcher-thing too? I’ll add that to the damn list.
These aren’t tasks that take a few moments to wrap up. They sure as shit aren’t fun, which may be why they slip my mind. They take up a big chunk of time and because I’m an adult, I’m expected to keep up with them and my everyday life at the same time. It’s draining me.
I don’t see the week of catching-up-with-shit-I-need-to-do-to-feel-better-about-my-life-but-don’t-want-to-do in my near future. So for today, I’ll do my best to keep up with the everyday: the feeding of the kids and driving them around, working, showering, and returning the text my sister sent me two days ago.
Maybe I’ll get to the dry, brown Christmas wreaths that are still hanging on my outside doors, but probably not. The way I see it, as long as they’re down by April, I’m good.
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