When uploading last night’s post this morning (my 2011 mac is trash and refuses to function for days at a stretch), I noticed the dour tone. I was, in a word, broken. That remains a prevalent theme over the last year (or 3) of blogs. I don’t think this is post marriage blues, or the result of the stutter of my current relationship, or even that hallowed mid-life crisis. I just chalk it all up to being deeply overwhelmed by the amount of work I am doing at this point. Worse still, it isn’t even the work as much as it is the failure to organize the work successfully. I’m suffering because I have too many balls up in the air and the dozen or so that already fell are threatening to trip me.
I figured it out in my garage this morning. The place is an absolute wreck. My Dj stand sits collecting dust behind a pile of football stuff, which is strewn everywhere. The boxes in the shelves are half labeled but not at all reflective of what is actually in them. Most of what is there is no longer needed. This friday I need to throw a bunch of stuff away. I need to stop tripping over the metaphorical balls I’ve dropped in order to get to the ones I am still keeping up in the air. The results of not doing so have be catastrophic.