Sometimes I feel like this:
And then I have to draw it in my notebook instead of getting actual stuff done. And then I have to blog about it, and then explain it for you. (Instead of getting actual stuff done.)
So that's a picture of me. You can tell by the bad clothes and ponytails. And I'm standing in a bricked up box. Because in this picture, that's what it is.
And then there's a pipe that goes through the box, and regular daily life flows through it. It's like a stream of time and chores and work and kids and dinner and all that other stuff that makes up life. But my pipe is rusty and doesn't hold life very well, so it constantly leaks.
And then my box fills up with too much regular life. And instead of working on a drain, I just stand there in a daze.
Sometimes I feel like my box is totally full of water and I'm doggy paddling near the top sucking in that last little bit of air with just my lips sticking out of the water. But I've been trying to cut back on stress lately. That helps a little.
But still my box is watery. Just full enough to be thinking, "Can't I just go back to bed?" and also, "Will my underwear ever be dry?!"
And also, there are little piranha type fishes in there, because sometimes it's not enough to be stuck in a bricked up box of slowly filling life water. Sometimes the universe has to gnaw on you a little. Because life is mean like that.
You know those really organized and happy people that seem so content and in control at all times? If they were in bricked up boxes they would probably have their pipes in proper working order. And their boxes would probably be super comfortable and dry. And they'd probably be throwing Bunco parties and baking cheesecake in them.
Meanwhile, I'm just over here going, "Today was a success because I didn't drown."
Does anyone else feel like this?