I suppose it’s only appropriate that my “madhouse” post on the topic of “Normal” is happening at almost 7:00p on the day it’s scheduled. This, my friends, is my new normal.
I’m busy, every day. It’s just astonishing how much you can simply ignore and avoid, during a clinical depression – and oh, look, there it all is, waiting patiently for me now. Oil changes, phone calls about bills, organization, registrations, sports sign-ups… every day, I have errands, usually out of the house and usually things I could have dealt with months ago, except that I couldn’t.
I don’t feel guilty about this. Procrastination comes very, very naturally to me under the best of circumstances, and when things were bad, they were horrid. I did my best, and my children bear no visible scars, so now it’s just a case of getting it all back together again.
As though this wasn’t enough to juggle, I’ve also started working again, doing transcription work from home. It’s a wondrous thing, but it’s also solid, demanding, focus-intensive work, all in front of the computer. I get so tired staring at the same screen for hours that, as soon as I’m finished, I slam the computer shut and run screaming in the opposite direction. (Or, OK, I just shut it down and stumble over to the couch; same difference.) I haven’t visited a single blog in two weeks, am barely popping my head in to my various message boards, haven’t logged on to chat in ages, and in general have been a very bad cybercitizen.
Again, no guilt. Just the way things are, and once I get better at time-management and scheduling the work time apart from family time and not having to work at the kitchen table, I hope to regain some semblance of online life.
To that end – and to further the above-mentioned organization efforts – I took the day off. Didn’t even open my computer until just now. But it wasn’t to go loll on the beach. Jacob and I headed down to IKEA, and I bought myself my very own desk and chair.
Let me repeat: my very own desk and chair. A secretary-style desk, with several shelves overhead, hidden by solid cabinet doors. A solid, swiveling chair with good lumbar support and arms for leveraging up and out after too many hours of typing.
This is terribly, pathetically exciting to me. I know I’ve blogged before about my lack of space in this house, space which is mine and only mine. I share a bedroom, and the only other spaces I frequent are the kitchen and living room – also shared spaces. Each kid has their own room, and Willem has his office, and I… don’t.
But now, with my brand-new desk – being assembled by my helpful and long-suffering husband right this very second – and comfortable chair – already in residence under my derriere – I’ll have my own spot. A place to stack those papers I still need to sort through, and a designated area to throw all my crap when we have company en route.
So, with a little luck, what I’m in right now is not really my new normal, just the messy transitional stage from a nasty, miserable normal to a more organized, unmiserable one.
It’s madhouse time again, and here we are to play it. JMLC and Baino are regular participants – this is becoming a bit like poker night, except with those pesky oceans in the way – and several others have been known to throw in their thoughts: Heather, Be This Way, Alli, Aitara, Fraught, The Three Bucketeers, Heather…