Do you ever feel like you’re failing at life? I do. Frequently. Who knew being an adult required so much of you? Not me. Now, maybe it’s the violent stomach bug that’s hit our house hard, but I am struggling here. Eight straight days of mopping up other people’s bodily fluids will do that to you, I guess, but it’s not just that.
It’s the unexpected bills and constant home and car repairs. The deadlines and paperwork. OMG, the paperwork alone will kill you. Medical forms, financial forms, registration forms, jury duty summons, driver’s license renewals, the list goes on and on. And it’s all mandatory.
Yep, the kids and I had a nice long discussion one day about how you can get hauled off to jail if you don’t pay your taxes or show up for jury duty. If it weren’t for being able to buy their own candy and stay up as late as they want, I swear they would think there were no perks at all to being a grownup looking at me.
So, yeah. Failing at life. Failing to stay positive and be a good role model and encourage future good citizens of America. Failing to keep my house clean and my bills paid and my refrigerator stocked with something besides condiments. Failing to RSVP on time and return phone calls and remember important dates and send back that form for that thing at school and write that check for that other thing at that other school. Where IS the checkbook, anyway?
I’ve got nothing left, people. It’s not about filling the well at this point, it’s about digging for any drop I can find in the Sahara. I’ve lost my mojo. Showing no signs of getting my groove back anytime soon. Sorry. I’m tapped. Out. I’ll still be around. I’ll still show up here
when if I get a break from the puke and paperwork. The story about the DIY tire swing is not going to tell itself.
But for now, I got nothing. Nothing but a boatload of used Clorox wipes and hands chapped from Purell overload.