anxiety, Identity, Living

Desperately Seeking a Daytimer

Second rewarm of my tea this morning.  Second start to holiday vacation for my kids thanks to a snowstorm.  Second application of warm socks and boots for the youngest who managed to lose her left one in a fall.

Final and total, complete agitation.

I rose to the insistent plying of my youngest to make her ‘brefkast’.  A detour into her sister’s room to find her playing on her iPad kept her there and left me alone with my laptop.  Instead of writing the three posts I should be or researching and revising the short story I should be, I putted around with email, online statuses, and reading blogs and comments other people had written.

I’m about as mushy as this 4-8 inches of snow will be once the temperature soars to a balmy 48 degrees on Monday.

How many pains in the asses do we have to feel before we become a cranky ass?

I’ve gone too long without a routine, this I know.  The four to five days following Christmas where we ambled out for a hike once we actually got dressed, ate whenever we wanted, and cuddled in actual or electronic firelight were divine.  I sorely needed them.  But one day of waking early, rushing to the bus stop, running errands, etc. etc, etc, and then back to that loosey-goosey schedule was not enough.  As much as I hate working to a clock, leaving me to structure my own days is a little like playing with that actual fire.

Plus, as excited as I am about some new ventures coming down the pike, they’re new and therefore anxiety-inducing.  Will I succeed?  Will I have enough time to complete my new tasks in addition to my existing ones?  Will I be able to create enough quality content for three blogs? (Rob and Ruby, if you’re reading . . . of course, I can! 😉 ) Perfectionism is the enemy, but if I’m putting my name to it, it best be good.  Nothing like self-induced panic and pressure.

We’re in that in-between state where the merriment of the holidays is no more, but it’s unclear what this new year will be.  Unknown strikes fear into the heart of the fear-a-phobe.

Which I suppose is why I sorely need a schedule.  One trivial, nitpicky way to get some tiny semblance of control over the whirling dervish that is now – my thoughts, my responsibilities, my needs, my children, my irrational, unfounded worries.  That should be one hell of a calendar.


12 thoughts on “Desperately Seeking a Daytimer

  1. Jen, I agree. These in between days have no structure and have left me lazing about more than I thought possible. Glad you have some more blogging going on. Please share so we can all stay tuned

    Best wishes for 2014!


    • Jennifer Butler Basile says:

      Yes, committing goals to paper certainly helps . . . a little! I also need to remember to keep my goals to a realistic standard.


  2. Aaaargh, I need a schedule! This time after Christmas and the new year is such a limbo state and very hard to get back into the swing of things. I know what you mean about exciting yet anxiety-inducing new projects in the pipeline but I’m looking forward to seeing what you are up to next. Happy New Year Jennifer and happy writing and blogging and….well, happy everything for 2014 🙂


  3. You know if it causes anxiety, I don’t want you doing it. For the little I can offer in this, sit back, breathe deeply, and don’t worry. It happens when it happens.

    (And hey, that sit back and breathe deeply applies to all of it. 😉 Also, a great man once said, “Nothing in this life has any business being perfect.” He was right.)


    • Jennifer Butler Basile says:

      I know, worry is futile. But so is resistance, right!? 😉 Hard to rewire old systems. Sorry, I’ll stop with the Borg references now. I am in no way regretting my decisions. Just the clamp I put on myself.


      • As much as I tell you not to stress, I know exactly where you’re coming from, because I do the same thing to myself. In fact, I just took a Xanax and reminded myself (repeatedly) that “Nothing in this life has any business being perfect. . .” Still waiting for that Xanax to kick in, though! 😉


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