Lately when I sit down for a quiet, uninterrupted moment, it
is a brief moment, only lasting for a second or two. Life starts happening. Saturday night was a restless night around
our house, and on Sunday morning, I finally gave in to not being able to sleep.
I got out of bed and turned on the coffee.
I sat down with my cup, looking forward to at least 30
minutes, when Katy came down the stairs.
Before I knew it, Billy was down shortly, and the tv was on for the day.
Sunday was starting off as a day of finishing a to-do list
that had been around since Friday. Not
exactly a day of rest. By the early
afternoon, I was driving the girls home from the library, contemplating a stop
at Michaels for some supplies and felt the weight.
My mind needed quiet.
My eyes were tired. I headed
home.
After some lunch, I began to work in the kitchen. I had some music on, low enough that I could
barely hear it. I was doing some prep
work for the week and started working on dinner. I could feel some of the weight lifting. My brain was engaged in cooking, and my mind
was quiet. I wasn’t thinking about the
week ahead. I wasn’t thinking about the
week behind. I was simply there.
When Billy came home from running some errands and plopped
down in front of the tv with the remote, I asked him if he could watch it in
the basement for a while. I still needed
quiet.
By 8 pm, the final load of laundry was almost done in the
dryer. I was feeling relaxed and ready
for the week.
Monday morning, I took some quiet time with my coffee to
just be.
And then I spent 10 minutes before leaving the house in a
frenzy trying to find my keys. Keys that
I had put in my bag 5 minutes before the frenzy started. I almost ended the day the same way, trying
to find my work id, which was in my coat pocket.
The lesson here is that the crazy simply doesn’t go away. Twenty-four hours of peace can’t erase weeks
of stress.
I need the load to lighten, and the end is in sight. Until then, I will try to put a lid on the
stress and keep my keys in my sight.
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