You know, sometimes I just question it all. All of it.
Why does it seem like so much work?
My life is fragmented like sunlight falling in colored slices through a stained glass window. My latest stress is that I joined this Bunco team and promised to host at my house tonight. Now, I don't mind having people over. That in itself is A LOT of work because all of the cleaning and tidying and upkeep of the house for the whole family falls on me. But at least I get to enjoy the clean home. Also I have to cook dinner for 12 - but that's pretty doable for me. Roast 2 chickens, heat up a ham, slice some veggies and breads and cheeses, cook potatoes and cranberry sauce. Okay - that's just step by step.
No, what's getting to me is that I got so busy over the last two weeks I just had no concentration on Bunco. I knew it was coming on the 14th. I was in the room last month with the whole team when the leader announced it would be on the 14th at my house. But, apparently, only a few of those women actually listened and remembered. So I screwed up by not "inviting" people a few weeks ago. And now only half the team can make it and I'm taking heat from them and I've failed as a host before we even begin.
And, honestly, I'm torn between really caring and not caring at all. Because for all the "Christian fellowship and dedication to our Lord Jesus Christ" that this team is supposed to be about, I'm really not feeling much love from these ladies. I've played with them for four months now, and I'm good at making friends, but I'm still feeling I'm at arms-length. Which makes me ask, Is it Me? Is is Them?
Good God, is it just something about Christians of a certain type????
Underlying all of that is the combination of excitement and stress at taking on a whole new workload and work life. Underlying that is the need to juggle, juggle, juggle to fit that work life in around full time care for two children and all the "homemaking" I do as a matter of course (and also necessity).
Underlying all of that is a frustration that I've had no time for either yoga or writing. I'm so jealous of talented, working writers right now.
And underlying all of that, as always, is that nagging, niggling sense that my life is off balance, off the path and that I am deeply mourning for something I want and miss without being able to define what it is.
It feels better to write, even if I'm not keen on posting raw material. Looking at this, I think I could rework it into something better and stronger. But if I hold it to rework it, I'll never get back to it. It would join that long list of posts waiting to be written, great story moments, poetic lines and other text work to come. Better just to post and at least say something to the world. Why??? I don't know. What does it matter if that chance reader in Singapore or Colorado or New York learns about my life?
Ah, the self. Such a busy place.