where wildly different is perfectly normal
One Word
One Word

One Word

Recently (ok, three weeks ago, which isn’t that recently, but in Pangaea time it’s a blink of the eye) I received one of those “pass it on” emails asking me to describe the sender in one word. So, of course, I played along and forwarded it to a bunch of people, asking them to describe me in only one word. Some of the responses:

  • spunky
  • wonderful
  • capable
  • fun!
  • strong

Amazing how people see you in a light you don’t. I sure don’t think of myself as spunky, that’s for sure. Highly caffeinated, yes, spunky, not so much. I’m not sure how I see myself. Some of the words that come to mind are less than flattering…hmmm…need to work on that.

I think the word that best describes me right now is actually an acronym. Courtesy of Karen comes TUSH. Trapped Under Something Heavy. I can’t remember if I wrote about this before, but hey, I don’t remember breakfast and that was an hour and a half ago, so cut me some slack. Trapped Under Something Heavy. The feeling of, well, being trapped and not being able to get out from underneath it. In my case, not one particular thing, just a whole bunch of medium-weight items that have conspired to suffocate me until further notice.

TUSH hit in April. We started finishing the basement, which involved every single item being removed and stashed somewhere else. I don’t like being uprooted, so having a crapload of basement quality furniture in my living room and my treadmill in the garage didn’t do much for my emotional state. Then I decided in the middle of all this to start a home-based business, ’cause, you know, I wasn’t already busy or anything. Starting a home-based business the very day you haul the last of the basement crap back to the basement is not a good way to relieve stress.

And both boys have issues going on that we’ll have a better idea how to deal with by the end of the month. They could be severe, they could be mild, but we won’t know for several more weeks. In the meantime we’re treading water with both of them.

I’m not dealing with it all particularly well. The non-stop low-grade headache I’ve had since Monday’s blinding migraine isn’t helping, nor is the five year old behind me singing “Doe a Deer” at the top of his lungs. Oh, now it’s some sort of “America” song that he apparently learned in music class. Gah. Back to “Doe a Deer.” Help.

So I think my “one word” to describe myself is going to be hope. If I don’t have hope over the next few weeks it’s gonna get ugly.

Right now I feel like this:

I want to feel like this:

Because my TUSH is so large (have fun with that Google searchers!), things are probably going to be really quiet or really fluffy around here for awhile. The holidays are a’comin’ (just in case you didn’t notice the holiday lights and decorations going up in the stores), and it’ll get even crazier than normal. We’re driving to Iowa for Thanksgiving (oh please, let’s all hope the accessories plug in the van doesn’t short out again, leaving us without a DVD player for the backseat, or it’s going to be a verrrryyyy long drive across Nebraska), so that’ll be it’s own subset of fun. So since we already know the way I deal with stress is to freak out, I’ll save you all the goriness (is that a word? And why has every sentence in this paragraph had a parenthetical addition?). Unless you’re a voyeur (ooh, Google is lovin’ me today!) of course, then come on back and hope to see me lose it in front of God and the whole internets

In the meantime, I’m going to take advantage of the silence afforded by A having a friend over. Work to be done. TUSHness to be dug out from under. Have a great weekend!

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