I feel guilty that the blogs are all in want of attention. I feel like I'm just making up excuses about why I haven't been writing at the rate I had been in the past. At the same time, I am anxious about meeting the sleep specialist. I worry about how therapy is going for my kids. I worry about Beloved's health and all the damn stress he's under.
My home is a mess. But I cleared out a few feet worth of space in the project room. I have been organizing piles of goods and making decisions on how to approach them. It feels like a lame distraction from how much of a mess my kitchen is. I'm forcing myself to stay awake to post this. And yet I can't manage to get these damn dishes done.
Beloved would gently remind me right now that I am still having problems sleeping which is messing with my energy levels. He would tell me that if I'm practically falling asleep at the keyboard, I should take a short nap. He would remind me that it isn't laziness that has me avoiding the dishes but the trauma from how I was taught to wash them. And then give me a stern look asking if I was going to take that short nap I needed.
And he'd be right. On all points.
