Hurricanes or juggling

In my world right now [and a few others who are in the same boat of seniorness], it’s hurricane season. The wind is blowing faster and faster and the windows weren’t boarded up well enough, so they’re threatening to let the wind in. If you open the door to the crazy outside, your papers will all fly away and meet their end in the wet and blow.

Sometimes I feel like I’m out there, waving like one of those inflatable wacky waving tube men and trying to get stuff done. And sometimes I’ve gone deep down into my bunker with a flashlight, a snack, and a notebook and checked something off my to-do list.

Then I come back to the main level with the boarded up windows that are about to burst at the seams and realize that the candle I left burning is about to set the house on fire.

This is all metaphorical, I hope you know.

I would use the analogy of trying to juggle a bunch of balls so I could say I “dropped the ball” and mean it, but when you drop a ball, it bounces and you pick it back up again and are fine. Sure, you have to stop juggling for a minute, but all hell does not break loose.


That might be more accurate.

Because when I forgot that my bibliography was due last week and read the wrong chapter in my textbook and felt all the insane-crazy-exhausted-woman-irritation at the people who didn’t show up for writing appointments, the world didn’t fall apart. The wind didn’t sweep everything away. The boardwalk wasn’t buried under tidal waves; the house didn’t burn down.

The balls just fell on the floor.

To be fair to my overreactive self, it’s hard to stop juggling when you’ve started. Why stop? You’ll only have to get everything going again.

I didn’t do homework for two whole days this weekend. Two whole days. And I came back to school a new woman, feeling actually capable and relatively calm. What did I do in those two days?

Watched movies with friends.

Ate with friends.

Explored the downtown of a suburb with friends (read: small, manageable, not this monstrosity where I live)

Fulfilled a dream of about four years of getting my nose pierced.


Lounged with friends.

Played touch football with friends (which means that even though I’m mentally rested, some less often used muscles in my legs are hurting… but it’s a good kind of hurt) and scored a touchdown.

Went to a farmer’s market with a friend.

Laughed with friends.

Are you seeing a pattern here?

Friends are important. Also, stopping your labor for time with friends is important. No, I can’t spend everyday doing that. And I’ll definitely get back up to the level of crazy I was at Friday afternoon, but it’s so nice to come down from there for a little bit.

I’m going to remember that I’m a juggler and not a hurricane survivor. I’m going to take breaks. (watch me, I’m taking a break right now!) I’m going to work hard and stop working temporarily.

And I’m going to sing this song every couple days, because it’s hard to sing it and not feel good: 

You, too?

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