A mile a minute


My brain is racing. It is bogged down, overloaded, with ideas and worries and little flashes of images from the future – both imminent and months away. I would list them but it’s too much, so many tiny things and humongous things and they’re just so heavy. And I wake up every night sometime between 4 and 5 and I think about all this stuff that has to be dealt with. And I worry and turn over and over and remind myself that it’ll all work out in some way… it always works out.

But then I wonder what happens if, for once, it doesn’t work out. And we somehow don’t have money for the second kid to go to daycare and I can’t find a better paying job and all this STUFF just reels inside me… it’s enough to make me want to jump out of my bed or out from behind my desk and just run screaming in any direction away from this life that is CRAZY. But that’s not the answer. I ran so much in my early twenties; I spent a lot of time convincing myself that if I ignored problems they’d just go away. I learned my lesson of course and only found larger amounts of debt – now gone, thankfully – and holes deeper than I knew how to dig my way out of. Guess we all have to learn these things on our own though.

On Saturday, I’m getting a prenatal massage with a gift card my mother gave me last Christmas. I am hoping it will relieve some of this tension. Then it’s on to next week and family and vacation time and good food… I just keep telling myself I’ll make it. I will make it.

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