Stay tuned for an actual post

There seems to be a bug going around among some bloggers recently.  A fatigue bug.  A Paralegal’s Life, Spilled Milk (more about a break from her kid, but still, fatigue),  and Mom-In-A-Million have all recently blogged about needing a break for various reasons.  Apparently, you can also catch the bug by reading those blogs because I’ve become stricken with it myself.   Nah, really I was already having a hard time coming up with the words or the gumption to blog before I saw the other blogger’s posts.  Then I didn’t feel so bad about my own lack of blog-worthy ideas.  

Of course, then I started thinking, damn, it’s my blog, I should be able to blog when I want and about what I want, right?  I shouldn’t feel bad about it in the first place!  Except I have this tormenting little shrew in my head that always tells me I have to do everything perfect and brings up the times that I totally screwed something up.  (Which are many.)  Then I tell her to shut the hell up, and she starts mocking me and laughing. I start telling her that she’s just a product of my own insecurities, she’s useless and to go away. Then people start staring and uncomfortably step away from me.  (ed note: It’s a great way to clear an aisle at the grocery store.)  I think the shrew is related to the other nasty wench in my head that bestows me with large amounts of mommy guilt and mommy worry, but that’s another post entirely.  I need some “Shrew-B-Gone” that doesn’t come from a $125 an hour practitioner with a comfy couch.  Um…..as usual, I have digressed.

So, bottom line, I guess I’m having a bout of writer’s block.  Or blogger’s block.  Or something block-ish.   Since the trial that was recently set is a no go, I’m now trying to get my head back into the other cases that I have going.  We’re also quickly approaching the holidays death spiral, I have 3 birthdays in our family between now and Thanksgiving, and a friend coming into town for Thanksgiving.  And Oh. My. Gawd.  It’s almost November, ya’ll!  You’ll have to pardon me while I lose my schmidt for a little bit and gather what few brain cells I have remaining to put together something coherent enough to blog.   I’ll get a few thoughts strung together, and then I’m all, uh oh, did I remember to make that phone call?  What the hell am I going to get my mother for her birthday?  Is T’s Halloween party this week, already? Ooooh, look!  A funny email! 

Granted, I am usually a few fries short of a Happy Meal anyway, but the past week or so has reach ridiculous levels of ADD, even for me.  So I’m working on it and I’ll have something in the near future besides the ramblings of a tired and focus-challenged mom/paralegal to post about.   I will be back soon.  I may be on a Halloween candy sugar-fueled binge by then, but back nonetheless.

One day

I have hope that one day I will be sane.  I will regain my pre-pregnancy memory and sanity.  I will remember where I was going after I get 2 feet from my office door.  I will actually remember what file I am looking for when I find myself in the file room, and also the correct file number and what it was that I wanted specifically out of the file.  I will not do laps around the grocery story until I remember the one thing that I forgot to put on my list.  At least, I’m pretty sure I forgot something.  Did I forget something? 

One day, I may actually make it to work on time.  Without the stress and adrenaline of being on time because of a trial, or a major project, or because the boss gave me “that look” last Wednesday when I skulked around the corner at 8:50.  (Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to be at the office until 10.  What’s wrong with him?)   “That look” usually only works for about a week, until I wake up one morning and forget that it happened.  See my previous statement about pre-pregnancy memory. 

One day, I may be able to have a conversation with my husband without my son yelling, “Mommy!  Mommy!  Excusememommy, Excusememommy, Excusememommeeeeeee!”  When I do stop to see what it is that he needs so badly that he’s willing to sacrifice everyone in the room’s eardrums, he will not say, “Um……look at that!” and point to the refrigerator because he can’t come up with anything else.   Actually, that’s okay, because one day I will probably be the one willing to sacrifice my eardrums to get HIS attention.  “ExcusemeT, excusemeT, Excuuuuuusemeeee!  Um, how was your day?” 

As part of regaining my sanity, one day I will not confuse my files, thus confusing my boss and looking like an idiot when I tell him that the nurses depositions are set for 3 weeks from now in case X, when, in fact, they are set but in case Z.  Thus requiring an emailing explaining that my brain is scrambled and I am not entirely incompetent.    

One day, I may be able to …..um….. oh, damn it.  I forgot, never mind.   

PS – Do not burst my bubble by explaining that I’m getting older and will probably never again see even a fraction of the memory that I used to have.  It’s my fantasy.  And it’s Monday; isn’t that bad enough?