shaky ground

I'm not in a great place right now. Too many things feel shaky under my feet. Too many unknowns. Too many question marks. Too many situations out of my control.

There's still a mouse in my house. I've gone from being a person who stands screaming on a chair to someone who's been co-habitating with one medium grey mouse (or mice, who knows) for weeks now. I saw one climb through the vent in my stove 2 nights ago. Trust me, no one should ever have to see that. It's hard to cook. It's hard to even go into the kitchen at this point. I'm trying to stay calm about it all, but it's fraying my edges more than a bit. Anxious to be in my house.

I've been sick all week. Fever sick. So tired I've spent much of the past 3 days lying on top of my blankets, half awake, half out of it, waiting for the pressure in my head to subside, worried about all the terrible medical disasters in my future. Anxious about what's wrong.

Middle and high school stuff is moving back to the forefront. Big tests in a week. First results in a month. The tension is starting to bubble below the surface. These are potential ego-bruising, crushes for my kids and there's nothing I can do to protect them or make it better or soften blows. Watching the people you love most in the world hurt and not be able to take it away is a pain I never knew could be so overwhelming. Anxious for what might be.

We're supposed to start splitting the kid's room next month only every single step of the process has been fraught with ineptitude, miscommunication and misinformation. And should the pieces fall into place it means a huge construction project, a vast amount of work and a bigger mess than I've ever had to contend with. Anxious for not knowing what's happening.

I haven't been to yoga since last weekend. Too sore. Too tired. Too sick. But I miss the space and the breathing and the routine. Anxious without my soul's home.

I don't know if tomorrow's going to be any better. I'm floating in this grey mist without much to hold onto and nothing concrete in sight.

I hate this place. But I guess it's part of the journey.