First day of spring.
Sleeping baby, sleeping husband, frolicking children outside. I am happy.
Despite the knot of anxiety clenching at my chest from too little sleep and far too much caffeine to get me through the work day. Elliot Smith has sung to me and nostalgia has haunted me all of this day.
The second job of invoicing, editing, emailing, designing, fretting, researching begins, while intermittently running errands, planning tomorrow birthday parties, decorating cakes, washing laundry, and a million other little mundane tasks threaten to wash me away in that spiral of pure unadulterated overwhelmedness.
But at least today, I can keep an eye on it whilst I lace up biggest, chunkiest punk rock boots and kick it in the face and simply tell it to fuck off, I’ve got mommy shit to do.
