Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew. In fact I'm probably doing that on a fairly permanent basis.
I feel like I live on the edge of totally not managing, most of the time, but simultaneously manage to just about get away with it. There are consequences, and some times the cracks show. Like how the house is rather untidy, and I only made it to work on time this morning by getting the lovely L to make my lunch and crossing the road without waiting for the green man.
Sorry green man.
I go through phases of thinking I'm getting on ok and maybe even achieving something, and then I go through phases of thinking that I just can't keep up the juggling act. The fact of the matter is that I've probably been living in that grey area in between the two for some time now, and will no doubt keep doing so or some time to come. I can only hope I'm self-aware enough to know when to put one of my proverbial juggling balls down before I drop the whole lot.
In those odd spare moments when I think about what I'm going to blog about each week, I had come quite close to writing something along the lines of this:
Good evening dear Bloggity Buddies,
I'm going a little loopy. Time for a bloggy holiday. See you in a few weeks.
But then I thought of some other things I might say at the same time, and before you know it there are a couple of hundred words on the screen and we might live to blog another week. And I remembered how some of you occasionally tell me that you read this thing, and that you even glean a measure of enjoyment from doing so. This gives me great pleasure, inflates my ego to dangerous proportions, and I find myself feeling something that the less stone-hearted of you might call "a warm fuzzy feeling". In our house we openly call these "wooshies", in all seriousness, because I am incapable of expressing genuine emotion in proper grown-up language.
A wooshie looks a little like this.
|Should I be worried that this looks like a virus?|
Sleepies look similar. Their about the same size, but light purple, and like a cube with rounded corners. They gang up and jump on you at exactly half 3 most afternoons. They are hard to draw, on account of being kinda translucent, and also imaginary.
So, there I was, floating on a small cloud of wooshies (they're disproportionately strong, and gravity-defiant, didn't you know), and I got to actually thinking about those blessings I was trying to count last week.
Last week I couldn't count them through the cloud of internal swearing that was going on in my head. I can't even remember why now, so it can't have been important. This week I'm going to have a go at putting names to them.
1. I am me.
I'd be fairly pants at being anyone else.
2. I have a brain.
3. I have some skills.
4. I can dance.
|I'm in there!|
5. I have a job.
6. I have a Fiancee.
7. I am a Christian.
8. I have a supportive family.
9. I have awesome friends.
|Fireplace, candles, freekin' mahoosive dining table, it's got the lot.|
10. There is a chicken pie in the oven with my name on it.
Ok, that's a lie. There are two. But they're quite small and you can't make me feel guilty about it.