Tap, tap. Is this thing still on?

Here. Let me wipe off some of the dust for you. *pat, pat* Sit down. I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry. Not really, but sort of.

I don’t even know what to say. I know what I want to say, what I always say: A seemingly endless stream of obscenities and complaints. It’s who I am, I guess. Do I like being this way? Sometimes, but mostly not. And I’ll tell you what, keeping up a good front that I’m not this way is exhausting.

Do you ever feel like there are so many things you want or have to do that it’s just completely overwhelming? Like you can’t even think about it because you’re brain will start smoking, implode, catch on fire and then explode? But really, you don’t have any more or less responsibility than any other working wife/mother/human being out there? Please tell me I’m not the only one. I’m begging you. Am I the only one?

It’s sad that I could not post for, oh, about five months and then when I suddenly get a wild hair and do, I have absolutely nothing new to post about. It’s just the same old shit, different day. Or at least that’s how it feels. It’s depressing. Especially when I have some much in my life that should be making me happy.

That last statement made this question pop into mind: How long after you give birth can post partum depression hit? You know what, though? I don’t think that’s it. My son is about the only thing that makes me happy these days. Of course, he tries my patience on a daily basis, but if I were to be stranded on a desert island, he’d be the number one thing I’d take with me. Cake being second and… and… See, I don’t even have a third. Unless you count my husband. Pathetic.

Back to this “not having enough time” thing. Is this really legitimate? Or do I do this to my self? Do I set too many goals so that it’s just not possible to achieve even one of them? Here’s my current To-Do list:

TO DO LIST

Clean out garage
Clean out basement
Start putting together studio
Order Bruno table lamps
Put up photos around house
Paint for spare room
Do a budget
Ask about basement contractor
Schedule M's well visit (24 mo.)
Take down bedroom border
Send donation to Paws for Life
Go to Secretary of State
Stop automatic debits from insurance co.


House stuff:
Hand towels
Storage cabinet (IKEA)
Trivets
Pillow

Not too bad, right? Then wtf is the problem? Sometimes I think it’s this pain-in-the-ass job, and if I could have all day to accomplish what I want to accomplish, I’d accomplish it. Honestly, though, I don’t even know if having those extra eight or so hours would make a difference right now. For one, they’d be spent catering to and caring for my kid. For secondly, you kind of need motivation to get things done. And I’m fresh out. I am basically using as little mental power as I can to get by these days. So I guess thank Jebus I’m not at home taking care of my son all day. He’d be screwed.

Yes. As little as possible. So don’t even get me started on the business of keeping a clean house. There are two things I think about obsessively. Cleaning my house and losing weight. Note, however, that I don’t have the motivation or will power to do either. Well, I do make myself clean the house, but losing weight, forget about it. That would involve exercise! And feeling good about myself! And eating right! And God knows I don’t have the mental capacity to plan and coordinate all that. My brain power is strictly devoted to whipping myself into a frenzy about cleaning the house. Because it can’t just be clean. It must be CLEAN. Like scrubbing from morning until night madwoman screaming and on the verge of tears clean. And millions more tears on the inside because there was only exactly 3.2 seconds where the house was clean before Bulldozer and Bulldozer Jr. plow through and mess it all up. And it really wasn’t even clean by my standards anyway. No, that would take a good three to five days, maybe even a week, to be my standard of clean. Mostly I just settle for good enough because there’s no way I’ll ever get a solid chunk of interrupted time to clean it the way I’d like. And then what would be the point? Because it would get dirty again. You know, because we live there. And living is messy. How’s that for profound thought, bitches?

So. Yeah. Any one got some motivation lying around I could borrow? Anti-depressants would work, too.