My mom sent me an email this week asking if I’d already gone to Nashville for the conference. I am telling you this just to illustrate how completely overwhelmed I am with everything in the world right now. Mom and I are pretty close and usually talk on the phone several times a week. The last time I talked to her was last week sometime, so she figured I’d gone to Nashville. Or that I’d died and the cats were feasting on my brains.
I haven’t written here. I haven’t prepared my insanely anal Excel spreadsheet for February yet. I haven’t cleaned the house. I have barely watched TV. I haven’t read or worked out or talked to friends much. I have just worked and worked and then conked out on the couch or fallen into bed. The last day I had off was January 21st. The next day I will have off is February 10th, unless I get insane and decide to come in to work that day. I will try not to do that.
I’m supposed to give a presentation at the conference on Tuesday and it isn’t finished yet. I have to make copies today so it’s not like I can work on it over the weekend. I’m supposed to catch a ride to the airport at 9:30 in the morning and I haven’t packed a damn thing or done my laundry in more than a week.
I’m a total stress eater. It’s terrible, and I was gaining weight anyway, and I feel like the damn Goodyear blimp right now. I own seven suits and not one of them fits, so I needed to get a new suit for the presentation next week, and I did finally go and pick it up last night but as I was shopping for it, I felt guilty, like I should have stayed at work. I should have worked on my presentation at home last night but I was just so tired and out of gas that I decided to watch Grey’s Anatomy instead. And then I fell asleep. And then I woke up and had a meltdown about a bill I forgot to pay, which in the long run and maybe in the short run is really not that big a deal, but it was the final straw and just, in my mind, one more sign that I am completely incompetent and cannot manage everything I am supposed to be managing right now. And I called someone close to me and cried and cried in the middle of the night, big hitching sobs like a little girl about how I can’t do this, I can’t do everything I’m supposed to do, and I was told that no job should ever make me feel this bad. But right now, it does.
And I know it will pass – well, I think it will pass, but I don’t know when – but in the meantime, I try to be logical and I try to be positive and I try to control the things I can control but I keep catching myself thinking that it’s not the job making me feel bad, but rather my personal failure.