coffee & toast and melodrama

2

March 23, 2010 by Sarah S.

I’d say good morning but I wouldn’t really mean it!

not my actual spread, but definitely more attractive

I almost didn’t write this post, and if you’re in a super good mood, please just pass on by. Food first, though. I haven’t had toast in coffee in EONS. Coffee is acidic and I’m off the bread until after the wedding, for obvious pudgey reasons. However, this morning of mornings, I sat down to a big cuppa and two slices of sprouted wheat toast, with a few healthy pats of full-fat, cow’s milk BUTTER. Sometimes a veggie juice just doesn’t cut it, and this morning was one of those times. I struggled with it momentarily, because I have a ton of produce that needs using and I always feel better after my juice, but I just needed something to soothe me, and coffee and toast sounded like just the ticket. And you know what? I was right, because my body DOES feel a little more settled.

You see, I woke up this morning feeling tired. I’ve been tired for the past two days, and I just attributed to that pizza fiasco and heavy drinking. What it actually is, however, is just my period, which came this morning as if it were invited. Just waltzing right in and cramping up the joint. It’s also raining. A lot. Which makes me generally unhappy. And, HTB and I are in a little “tiff.” So, this morning, I am not a happy camper. Not one bit.

Do you ever feel like things are just getting away from you? Like they are flying by with strings behind them like balloons and you’re trying to grab as many as you can before they disappear into the sky and then deflate and fall into the ocean, harming some poor whale who doesn’t even know what balloons are? I feel like I haven’t caught many of my stupid balloons this time.

Here’s the thing about me: I’m a terrible unorganized person. I start stuff and never finish it. I leave clothes on the floor. I’m scatterbrained. Maybe in another universe, I’d be some sort of genius, but here, in this world and my life, I feel, a lot of the time, like I’m always chasing after balloon strings. And it’s not a very comforting feeling. When I lived by myself, I was pretty darn messy. Not as messy as some boyfriends I’ve had (omg) but I’d let the dishes chill in the sink over night, and if I got emotional over something, that poor apartment looked like it’d been trampled by stampeding elephants. I didn’t force myself to have a strict morning routine, and if the bed was left unmade, so freakin’ what? Nothing was really dirty and I was doing stuff my way. But… messiness isn’t my preferred mode of operation. You see, even though I’m really good at being messy, I’m not good at being when I’m messy. Does that make sense? I can’t get a darned thing done if my house is a mess. I crave one of those living spaces where all the counters are clear and clutter-free, and everything has a spot. But LORD HELP ME, because I’ll be gosh darned if I can create one!

It’s not for lack of trying. My New Year’s resolution was to be better at keeping our place clean, to cook dinner every night for HTB, to keep ORDER. I was doing well. Then I got off track for a few days, and it’s been downhill from there. Snowballing, in fact. And now I’m just… overwhelmed.

When I sit down at my computer in the morning, my mind is running a hundred miles an hour: did I send the check for the cake? did I send the check for the minister? will my veil be shipped to the right place? are the vegetarian entree’s prepared without eggs like I asked? gotta finish my science midterm. gotta finish this paper. gotta pack for DC. gotta make some green goddesses and freeze them for our trip. gotta pack the dogs up and get them to the dog sitter. gotta PICK UP AFTER MYSELF. It just goes on and on. I’m positive that I’ve always forgotten something important having to do with the wedding (in 26 days) and I’m basically waterlogged with school work. And we’re traveling. It’s hard for me to keep this place clean on a good day, and my friends, I haven’t had a good day in a leeeeeeetle while.

But the point here is not really to complain. Because what is there to complain about? I’m planning a fabulous wedding, I’m finally graduating from Harvard, and I have a roof over my head, two cutesy pups, and a fiance who loves me to pieces, most of the time. I guess my point is this: if you’re reading this and you care about my sanity, please send Merry Maids over to my place for a complete overhaul.

Or maybe my point is that I hope, sometime, I figure out how to be ME and stop chasing after those ever drifting away balloon strings. I hope I figure out how to keep the house tidy enough to keep both myself and HTB productive and in a good mood. I sure do hope that.

In the mean time, I will be hitting the science midterm.

And I promise my next post will be more about food and less about gloom.