Have you ever started filling up  your kitchen sink to wash dishes (because your dishwasher is broken and every time you think you’re going to buy a new one, well, something else comes up and then you don’t get a dishwasher and you have to keep handwashing everything even though it makes you want to punch a manatee) and then walked away, completely forgetting what you were doing until you register the sound of the still running water and you glance over at the sink, the water dangerously close to the top of the basin?

Or you were pouring flour into a glass measuring cup and the flour crashed out of the jar in a huge glump and then the cup overflows – flour everywhere.

I don’t know what’s up with the kitchen analogies but essentially what I’m saying is this: these containers have a finite capacity to hold stuff. You try to put too much stuff in, and eventually – poof – stuff everywhere.

That’s…kind of where I am. Dangerously close to being an exploding bag of flour or overflowing sink.

And it’s not a great feeling.

–

My grandma died on Wednesday.

My mom called me on the drive to work – and in the span of ten minutes, I was on a roller coaster: the paramedics were on their third round of CPR and no response to… they had a pulse and grandma was on her way to ER.

Sobbing, I navigated through a dismal road construction bottleneck while sobbing to my coworker on Bluetooth, telling her I would not be into work. I arrived at the hospital the same time mom did, and we were immediately ushered into a family room

Not a good sign.

We waited for everyone to arrive.

There’s not much you can do in a moment like that. You sit, and you cry and you wait. You try to get ahold of family on the phone. You scroll Twitter and feel envious of the people who haven’t had their morning go completely astray. You check your email.

A ventilator was breathing for my grandmother and I was thinking about work and the things I would have to delegate to someone to get done and a teacher was emailing me about an award my daughter was being surprised with the next day at a ceremony I would be unable to attend because I was chaperoning my other daughter’s class trip.

The glass measuring jar. The overflowing sink.

One by one family arrived. The priest arrived. The doctor disconnected the ventilator and we watched as she took her last breaths.

We cried and we hugged and then we didn’t know what to do next and so most of us just went our separate ways.

–

That push and the pull of all of the obligations facing me in that moment, that’s what has replayed in my mind over the past few days. The moment when I realized that no matter what I did, I couldn’t possibly do all of the things when they needed to be done, to please all of the people.

It was also the moment when I realized: there’s just too much.

–

If you thought that this was going to be the kind of post that tells you how to overcome that, well, you thought wrong. I had this epiphany several days ago and I’m still pretty much a mess.

I don’t sleep well. My home office is filled with laundry that needs to be folded. There is a crockpot sitting on my counter that needs to be emptied of leftovers and scrubbed clean, but it’s the first time I’ve found to write in days, so I’m typing this post, eating Dots candy and watching the Food Network Star on Netflix. I only feel a little bit bad about that.

–

In trying to find peace, sometimes all I can see is the clutter on my bookshelves. I stress about work projects and problems that never come to be because I’ve just created some imaginary worst case scenario and beaten myself up over it…only to have it never happen.

I am an overflowing sink.

And I don’t know how to turn the water off.

–

The thing is, I suspect I’m not the only one. In fact, I know I’m not. And it’s a bit sad, I think, that so many of us are operating in this mode – this gogogogogogogogogogogogogogo mode of getting things done and running-running-running-gotta-get-it-done until we are about ready to collapse.

Until we are wide awake at three a.m. imagining awful things, pulled so far in every direction, feeling like we’re not succeeding anywhere.

–

Things are going to change. They have to. Because I cannot function like this anymore. My sink is overflowing and I’ve got to let some of this water out. Somehow. Someway. Soon.

 

 

Thursday, 10:41 p.m.

5,981 steps on the Fitbit. I give up with this day. I don’t think I’m gonna try to make it to 10,000 and I’m just going to have to be okay with that. Slather coconut oil on my face – not sure whether it will give me pimples or moisturize out my wrinkles but I’m trying it because supposedly coconut oil is supposed to solve the world’s problems and one my problems is wrinkles. Big stupid wrinkles. Attempting to read a book while internally debating whether or not I should go down to the laundry room to get the clean sheets out of the basket. I love tightly tucked in clean sheets. Laziness wins.

Thursday, 11:17 p.m.

Eyes are heavy. I’ve maybe read three pages of my book. At this rate, I’ll never finish it. Everyone’s telling me that they’ve read it in one day, two days. I can’t seem to read more than a page at a time. Message Chris goodnight – I have to stick a fork in this day. I’m tired.

Friday, 3:58 a.m.

Ugh. Why am I even awake?

Friday, 6:00 a.m.

The alarm on my Fitbit goes off but I’ve been awake for several minutes already. TGIF. Not sure why I can’t sleep well – I was up again between 4 a.m. and now. I know I’m going to be tired later.

Friday, 6:07 a.m.

Down the hall to wake up the kids. Holy crap, they’re both awake already? That never happens. It’s our Doughnut Day – so we have to be out the door by 6:45 or we’re gonna be late.

Friday, 6:15 a.m.

Check the weather app: 1 degree, -14 wind chill. Ugh. What do you even wear when it’s so cold? Back to the drawing board – and into the closet: LAYERS LAYERS LAYERS.

Friday, 6:27 a.m.

Ready to go and downstairs to hurry kids and to eat breakfast. I don’t like doughnuts so I get coffee when the girls and I go – this means I need to quick scarf down some breakfast. Mental note: remember to put money in Pumpkin’s hot lunch account.

Friday, 6:46 a.m.

Last night’s dishes are washed (I miss having a functioning dishwasher!) and the laundry is in the dryer. The Princess can’t find her flats that she needs to wear for her chorale festival today. I offer her mine – which she grudgingly steps into and then her eye spots her own flats tucked away. And…yep. We’re not getting out the door on time.

Friday, 7:02 a.m.

Getting out the door behind schedule means that now we’re stuck in the 7 a.m. Starbucks rush. The line in front of us is filled with teenagers ordering Frappucinos. It’s -14 out there, kids? WHY ARE YOU DRINKING MILKSHAKES? Then again, I spy a pair of cropped pants and boat shoes, so clearly if they’ve checked the weather app, they just absolutely don’t care. Teenagers. They’re not the sharpest sticks in the eye, are they?

Friday, 7:23 a.m.

Drop off the Princess at school – she’s supposed to get on a bus for festival in seven minutes so I’m not entirely late. Right? Gorgeous to watch the sun come up on the drive. Deep breath in. Snap a picture on the way. I’ll post it to Instagram once I get to work.

Friday, 7:33 a.m.

Pumpkin is back at home with my stepdad who will get her on the bus in an hour. I’m ON MY WAY. Hoping that there will be a new podcast to listen to on the drive, but all I have is 14 episodes of NPR Fresh Air, none of them catching my interest this morning.

Friday, 8:06 a.m.

Greeted this morning with an email that set me in motion and set my teeth on edge. Could well be a day of clock-watching (and not just because I’ve given myself this assignment of…watching the clock.)

Friday, 9:04 a.m.

Send Chris a good morning text. It’s one of my favorite rituals – to wish him a good morning and to message him goodnight at the end of the day. I usually say hi earlier than this. Gearing up for a 9:15 conference call – it was supposed to start at 9 but someone is stuck in traffic somewhere so… the train is now off the tracks.

Friday, 9:12 a.m.

Check email — ooh, World Market. Spanish Wine Sale. Mmmm. Wine. This DAY.

Friday, 9:59 a.m.

Quickly eat a granola bar at my desk after the conference call wraps up. Email my sister plans for tomorrow for my niece’s birthday. Next thing, next thing. Grammar check with a co-worker – subject/verb agreement can be tricky and I’m not trusting my brain anymore. Need to wrap this up so I can move on to drafting an invitation for a client event.

Friday, 10:13 a.m.

My coworker gives me a gold star. Probably because I’m not yet crying.

Friday, 11:19 a.m.

Just realized I missed a text the Princess sent 40 minutes ago. Ah, Mother of the Year. They did well at their Chorale Festival! Yay!

Friday, 11:28 a.m.

I’ve had to pee for about two hours now. Am I going to go? Maybe after I save this file and get it sent.

Friday, 11:44 a.m.

I give up. I can’t keep holding it. I’m going to give myself a bladder infection.

Friday, 12:23 p.m.

Drinking a chalky Special K Protein Shake while updating a client’s website. My Fitbit is showing 1,900 steps. I’ve hardly moved today. Talk through a project, vent a little. I think it may be time to walk away from my desk for awhile.

Friday, 12:34 p.m.

Coat, scarf, hat, gloves. Go for a walk. I don’t want to be outside, but I know the fresh air will help. Where on earth did the morning go? Spot a sign for my old employer and opt to not take a picture to send them for use on their social media sites – it was cool exposure. I’m sure they’re aware of it. They do get involved with some cool projects.

Friday, 1:24 p.m.

I’m at 6,608 steps. That’s more like it.I feel slightly less stubby and now I’m on the downhill slope of the day. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…

Friday, 1:44 p.m.

Bless the coworker who brings in cookies.

Friday, 2:31 p.m.

“No one’s greater than you.” A client tells me that as we wrap up our call – not sure whether she means it or not, truly, but I’ll take it. I really do love to do good work and I’m glad when clients are happy with what I’ve done. We’ve been busting our butt to get a lot accomplished this week – them AND me – so sometimes, we need a win.

Friday, 3:01 p.m.

A west coast vendor delivered something that was completely wrong and then went to lunch. I need them to come back, to fix it. Email. Leave a voice mail. Have a minor heart attack.

Friday, 3:38 p.m.

Seriously, folks, come back from your lunch hour. Email a second person from the same company.

Friday, 4:06 p.m.

Oh my freakin’ goodness. It’s fixed. I’m not usually one to wig out on vendors – I like to be a good client – but that one was threatening to make me grouchy. Relax, Sarah. Eat another cookie.

Friday, 4:36 p.m.

Is there a limit to how many emails I can have open at once? So far…no. Daydreaming of eating potstickers for dinner with Pumpkin. The Princess will be at a friend’s so it’ll be just me and my youngest. I look forward to breathing again.

Friday, 5:11 p.m.

Out the door – but only because I need to get my hair cut at 5:30. No way I’ll get there on time. My laptop in tow, I’m sure I’ll be working again later.

Friday, 5:45 p.m.

Of course I’m late. I made the mistake of having someone different cut my hair last time. I hate it. Lesson learned. Never stray from good hair people.

Friday, 6:25 p.m.

Get home and scramble for a picture of the day before it gets dark outside. Not a whole lot of luck. Order Chinese food. Whoooohooo! I’m up to 7,506 steps. I may just make it after all. Eat a slice of stale beer bread while logging into work laptop. I barely left an hour ago but I need to get some information to a client. This is why my hair is gray. I miss Chris. This week has been a tough one and days are better when I get to see him. Updating Inbox. Those words are scary. Will it be one message or dozens? Fortunately… just a handful.

Friday, 7:11 p.m.

Home with dumplings and the shoes are FINALLY off. The dog ate Pumpkin’s Thirty-One thermal lunch tote so before we can eat, I need to resolve the tantrum AND message a friend who sells Thirty-One to see if by chance she’s got any replacement totes on hand that I could buy.

Friday, 8:25 p.m.

A friend texts from Opryland and I miss all of my bloggy friends. Logging off the work laptop for the night and would love to be sharing margaritas with them. Pumpkin is watching a movie while I work. I cave and FINALLY make my bed. Clean sheets. There’s something to look forward to at the end of this day. Sit with my kiddo on the sofa.

Friday, 8:58 p.m.

Text from The Princess. The next door neighbor is coming over to pick up her frosting piping tip. Can I go look for it? I find it.

Friday, 9:44 p.m.

Whoa. Kiddo is sleeping. Can it be…that this day is almost over? Let the dog out one last time for the night and grab my laptop and head upstairs. I fell asleep watching episode 3 of House of Cards the other night. May be time to try again.

Friday, 10:23 p.m.

Oh Universe, what are you even trying to tell me? Run a bath and the water’s lukewarm. After two minutes, I just…couldn’t do it. Too cold. Sigh. Sometimes the water is scalding, sometimes, lukewarm. I give up. Pajamas on, Netflix on, and jogging in place to hit 10,000. I got there. Didn’t think I would.  I think…I give up. May just let the lull of Kevin Spacey’s lazy southern drawl put me to sleep. Crawl in bed, headphones on, House of Cards episode 3.

Friday, 11:23 p.m.

Time to wash my face. Brush my teeth. Attempt to get rid of wrinkles with a layer of coconut oil. What a day. Thinking of all I didn’t do today – I never did put lunch money in Pumpkin’s account. I forgot to call my ENT to get a copy of my medical records. The dishes from dinner are still sitting in the sink. I meant to clean off my chipped nail polish. But I made it. I made it though the day. Can’t wait to lay my head on this pillow and nestle in my clean sheet tightly-tucked burrito bed.

Tomorrow is a new day.

I wasn’t sure what to expect last year at this time. 2013 was truly a struggle and I felt every pang of it in the core of my being by the time December rolled around. I felt so defeated – and then along comes January and my part time job was cut altogether and my job hunt, already pretty aggressive, became frenzied. I cried a lot in January. I busted my ass interviewing and applying for jobs and networking, all the while training my former coworkers… and crying a lot.

I didn’t have much hope for 2014. I didn’t.

I had my kids, I had Chris,  my family —  but I was sure that I’d be living in a cardboard box somewhere by the time the snow finally thawed in spring.

I was pretty angry at 2014 already.

(I got a new nephew in the midst of the job hunt. It was a saving grace, for sure.)

–

My expectations for the year were pretty low.

I don’t mind saying that – they were low. I just wanted to survive this year.

Instead, i feel like… I may be on my way to more than just getting by.

A new job, a paycheck, routine.

An unexpected need for a new car (love my Prius, hate my car payment)

It was a step forward, two back.

But here at the end of it I think – I am doing this. I can do this.

–

They say it takes a woman five years after a divorce to get back on her feet financially. I’m not sure who they is, but a former co-worker told me that statistic, said it was true for her when going through her divorce. It hasn’t been five years, but I’m hopeful that 2015 is the year that I wipe out any doubt that I can get back on my feet, that I will stand on my own two feet. I hope to finish paying off all that stuff that accumulated during those first few months (the debt made worse by a thousand dollar vet bill from the night that my dog barfed and barfed and barfed for so many hours, over and over, that I ended up at the emergency vet ready to give them all of my money that I didn’t have just so they could make my dog well again).

Yeah. All of that. It’s almost gone.

I did it.

Without all of the love and encouragement I received from the people who love me, I don’t know that things would have gone as they did. But I was lifted and carried and encouraged and embraced during the darkest moments and somehow along the way, I found light.

–

I still have a ways to go.

But now I believe I can get there.

I am grateful that 2014 was gentler on me than the previous year.

–

What are my hopes for 2015?

I don’t dare to have big hopes – not because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and for things to turn to crap – but because I still don’t know how to think bigger than one foot in front of the other.

Last year at this time, I was in deprivation mode – fearful of spending money, fearful of losing everything. Yesterday, I impulsively ordered three pair of yoga pants in an Old Navy athletic wear sale. I probably won’t lose sleep over the purchase, either. That’s…huge. It may not sound huge, but compared to the fear that enveloped me earlier in the year, it’s really freaking huge.

I will keep working towards those moments of smoothing out the rough edges – of finding peace where I’ve been stressed, of breathing easy when I once was filled with chaos.

I’ll try to drink more water. Exercise consistently. Find a bit more peace with my body even though hey, I’m aging and I don’t super love the effect it’s having on my waistline. I’ll continue to love my Fitbit and strive to hit my step goal more often than not. I’ll aim to officially set aside money to travel – I don’t know that travel is in the stars for 2015 – but I want to start making plans for travel. I would love to make it a point to spend more time with friends – it’s tough – my schedule is chaos and most of my friends are moms – it’s hard to find time to connect, but I’ve realized lately that I’ve missed that – missed having time to talk with friends and maybe I need to redefine what that time looks like – perhaps it’s not, let’s go out for dinner – perhaps it’s come sit on my couch and talk awhile, you bring the wine and I’ll bake some cookies. I was able to spend time with friends this year – but… not enough. I live in a town that makes me feel isolated, and I need to push through that – because the town isn’t going to change, so I must. I want more of what was good in 2014 – so I hope 2014 has a trip to Traverse City in the stars, perhaps a new bottle of something great that we’ll bring home to share.

In 2015, I’ll turn 39.

I’m gonna have to come to grips with the age thing. Or start. Because holy hell, 40 is coming and I have a feeling I will need more than a year to steel myself against the punch in the face I’m afraid 40 is going to be.

But this is supposed to be a positive thing. So.

I have my eyes open to 2015. I have no idea what is ahead, only that I am allowing myself to feel hope again and that is encouraging to me, and that makes my heart feel better coming into a new year than I have felt in awhile.

I’m still scared of what’s ahead – I think that’s just my nature – but I also believe that I can overcome any of the bad stuff — and I’m starting to let myself believe that maybe it won’t all be bad.

There’s something good up ahead for me.

I’m going to try to let myself believe it.

Goodbye 2014.

Hello 2015. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.

–

“In Hawaii, don’t they use aloha for like, hello and goodbye?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So if you’e on the phone with somebody and they won’t stop talking how do you get them off because you say, “Okay take care, aloha’ don’t they start over again?”