Thursday, May 19, 2011

May Day May Day

This time of year is always stressful for me. Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, commencements all snowball on top of each other, blotting out weekends and spare time. My bank account is drained buying presents for people (which I am happy to do) and my stress levels rise with each task I add to my to-do list. It's as though the universe knows this and piles it on, maybe trying to teach me a lesson about taking too much on, being too materialistic, or some other junk. Once mid-May hits, my mayday button is blinking.

This week in particular is busy. I've been attempting to keep it together and have for the most part done OK. On Monday I was at a town meeting until midnight, scrawling notes about budgeting for an article due the next morning--having already written and submitted a piece earlier the morning before. I volunteered to do some work for a friend entering the hospital, and had a pile of papers to read through and worry about her procedure. This weekend I am going out of town for a friend's bridal shower--I'm a bridesmaid--and have been struggling about stupid things, but which still have stressed me out nonetheless. It will be the first night I am away from my son too. Yesterday I nearly forgot to call my father on his birthday and when I did call from the train station the announcer chose those 5 minutes to make all the announcements for the day. Plus, my father pointed out that I was the last one to call him. My father calls me on my birthday separately from my mother just because, and I really wish I had called him earlier and not while in transit. But I got a card and Dunkins gift certificate to him, so hopefully he will think of me when he has his daily infusions of coffee.

Now today. Today is my wedding anniversary and in advance of the date I booked a babysitter, got a reservation at a nice restaurant, and bought my husband a card. I wanted it to be calm, organized, and stressless. However, the universe decided to give us a 5 AM wake up call with a "strong odor of gas" in the house and a screaming child. When your day starts with your husband saying "Get dressed quickly, get out of the house, and don't turn on any lights" you know that the universe is fucking with you. Especially as all my clothes were in the dryer. Normally I have clothes strewn across the floor for easy picking. Not this morning. Having recently reorganized my dresser drawer, I couldn't even remember where my pants were stored. Fumbling in the dark, I pulled out a random pair of pants and threw on an old jacket from college that was on my floor and have only worn maybe 5 times in my life. I then grabbed the kiddo, wrapped him in a blanket, and stumbled down the dark hall.

Turns out there was not a gas main break. Somehow one of the burners on the stove had turned on a bit, and gas was running out of it. I am going to have to blame the cats, but really have no idea as it was the side of burners we rarely use and the only scenario I can see the cats having done it was trying to jump up to the stove, missing, and catching the knob on the way down. Odd, especially as they both sleep in our room at night. But the gas leak had been going all night. The house was FULL of gas and we were lucky that the house did not explode, or we did not asphyxiate. Once husband turned off the stove we were able to clear the house by opening all the doors and windows. The morning routine resumed.

The universe must have been sorry or thought that I learned something sitting in the nursery holding my son after the gas situation had resolved itself. I got a prime parking spot at the train today. Plus my friend is OK, some money arrived in the mail to cover the birthday/wedding/fathers' day presents coming up, and I realized I could do some errands for this weekend at lunch. Still, I feel as though the week vacation down the Cape that begins next Friday is months away. Memories are appearing fuzzy as time goes forward, and each day rolls into the next, blurring the line of time. There are days I feel as though staying awake for a few days would be OK because then everything would be done and my sleep would be more sound. But then I pass out from exhaustion or cry because it's all too much.

But this morning as we opened the house for a cleansing, outside sounded like a rainforest. It was pouring, humid, and the birds were just waking up and calling to each other. I think I heard a wake up call from somewhere.

Message received universe, your point.

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