Anxiety Sauce
Hold the bologna and mayonnaise, please.
I come to you from a state of active panic. What else is new, you ask? But wait! This is, at least a new flavor of panic.
Okay, that's kind of lie. It's just a bunch of old flavors of panic blended together. The whole sad mess is a pungent anxiety sauce simmering away on all four burners of my brain.
Nick from New Girl being charmingly disgusting.
Ingredient 1
I got approved for the displaced homemaker program and have had a stomachache about it for approximately three weeks. In truth, this is the least spicy ingredient in the sauce; various papers have been signed and all and sundry birth and death certificates and other proofs of identity and status as a broken-hearted widow have been scanned in and added to my file. It never fails to feel like a gut punch when our devastating tragedy fits so neatly into a manilla envelope.
Much to my chagrin, I will have to start with the CNA training (Certified Nurse Assistant) even though I still hold a valid CMA license (Certified Medical Assistant). It's okay, I tell myself. My CMA license is old and I'm sure I could use a refresher. I think this whole CNA thing is the college's way of rooting out the weaker links. (I am so scared I am a weaker link.) But I remember how to change bed pans and perform dignity-preserving sponge baths! It will not be a CNA course that takes me down. We all know this. It will be the math.
I am still very, very nervous about returning to school and have been experiencing an uptick in those ever so special high school stress dreams wherein I am either naked, can't remember my locker combination, or have arrived on the last day of a semester to find I failed to attend a single AP History class and now must take the exam.
Fun.
Ingredient 2
Last year, I promised myself I would not go to (read: spend money on) any more writing retreats or writing conferences until I had sorted out my life and felt like I could devote some time to writing again.
I've been good about sticking to this healthy goal/boundary until my friend Kat wore me down with her white witch voodoo magic. Just kidding. She promised if I came to her Writer's Plus Retreat, I'd have the king bed and a private bathroom. And she'd do all the cooking.
We leave on Tuesday and I swear to you, I am losing chunks of hair over it. It's going to be fine. Good even! I just don't know how to do something like this during the school year without the other parent home to help run the carpool, make meals, and keep the house running smoothly.
My kids, who are all adult-sized humans (I am now the shortest person in the house), roll their eyes at me, but their competence* does not dissipate the stress I feel. I'm really nervous I've done a dumb thing by committing to go and I'm also nervous it will be a waste of time and/or break my brain, which is a tidy segue into the next ingredient.
*I must interrupt this tidy segue though, to point out that my daughter has autism and while she is 'high functioning' (We're not supposed to say that anymore? But I don't know what to replace it with), our routine is really important for her to live her best life and we're both a little stressed out about this trip.
Ingredient 3
Learning to function without my person continues to be a painful, laborious process. I have made huge strides (relative to me) though, and feel like I have this shiny new framework that so far (KNOCK ON WOOD) is holding us together. However! The framework is very delicate; made out of gossamer thread and candy floss, it sometimes feels like the whole thing could blow away if someone leaves the window open.
I'm really worried that if I switch gears from the solo parenting framework (which includes waking up early, going to bed early, an exercise plan, alarms for medications, and a routine for work and adulting and momming), and instead boot up the very old and creaky Windows Vista version of my brain (the last wheezing version of my brain that knows how to write books from a pre-Eric-dying era), I'll come home a complete mess.
There is a flip side to this worn through worry stone, and that is that the old and creaky Windows Vista version of my brain will be full of trojan viruses and fail to load at all. I'll be wandering aimlessly through a pretty cabin somewhere unable to get anything done and then because I have not yet managed to separate my worth from my productivity levels, I will have left my family to drown without me for nothing! Nothing, I tell you!
Anyway, so! Next week will be an adventure! I may end up with an ulcer or a migraine! Can't wait!
Meanwhile, to cope with all the anxiety, I am cleaning out the refrigerator and alphabetizing the pantry. Just kidding (again! I am such a kidder in this email!), I have never alphabetized the pantry. But I am cleaning it out and stress eating an old bag of jalapeño flavored kettle chips which are good if a little stale.
xo my loves. If I can calm myself down, a premium email will be going out tomorrow.