I’ve been living out of a suitcase for almost a week, well, longer if you count my trip to New Orleans. And I do. There’s something about wearing wrinkled clothes that you have to sniff prior to wearing that exhausts me.
I’m just really not the best traveler. I miss my bed and miss being in control of the remote control. I miss my children, though they were with me for this trip throughout the entire state of Missouri, are naughty, alien versions of themselves. Mostly what I miss is my routines, the routines that define my days and keep me sane. I simply function better when I keep up with laundry, email, photo editing, and getting the kids to bed as early as humanly possible.
Before leaving for our trip, I planned in my mind how I would keep up with all these little tasks so that when I got home, I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed. I promised myself I’d keep up with the laundry at family’s houses and reply to emails promptly, and edit pictures each evening after the kids went to bed (early!). Of course this did not happen, the kids never went to be early and instead I spent a lot of time worrying about the fact that I would have a lot of laundry, email, and pictures to catch up when we finally got home.
We’ve reached the point in this post where I list all of the things I accomplished once we arrived home yesterday at 5:00. I’m super impressed with myself, though I recognize that I perhaps suffer from some sort of “get back into the swing of things mania.” Tate, however, when I told him all about everything I had been able to accomplish, didn’t seem as impressed as I felt he should.
That’s why I’m telling you.
Perhaps I should back up to yesterday morning and include some of the things I accomplished on the eight hour car ride. First, and probably the most impressive, was that I survived the (eight! hour!) trip without any need to phone the authorities! Also, I finally caught up on all of the Angry Birds seasons since February and beat every level. I can see that you’re impressed!
Once we got home, I became a goal reaching machine. After unpacking three suitcases, I washed, folded, and put away three loads of laundry. I replied to countless emails. I was able to hide three different Easter celebrations worth of candy from the children and put their Easter baskets away in the attic.
Two children were bathed and sent to bed early.
A grocery list made. The mortgage was paid.
I also wrote this post and worked a little to catch up with my duties at Story Bleed Magazine. This should all seem very, very impressive, yes?
And then I went to bed where I woke up about 20 bazillion times, filled with anxiety about the things I didn’t get done.