Posted by: penelopefly | November 20, 2008

Getting what you want out of life

ulyssespost For the past 48 hours I’ve been storming about.  I’ve been brusque with my children, snotty to my husband, and almost kicked my dog. There is a tornado of overwhelming responsibilities simmering beneath my nerves- sure to result in a nervous breakdown, or, more likely, my period. Hormones aside, I’m stressed.  Thanksgiving is next week and Christmas is sure to arrive the next day, and then comes my first day at the Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers. I am woefully unprepared.  

There are presents to select, buy, wrap; cards to choose, sign, send; bills to pay; trips to take- which means packing, laundry, packing, laundry.  The day after my daughter’s birthday (New Year’s) I board a plane for North Caroline where I will begin my graduate program.  I already have work.  A book to read, critical analysis to write, and ten, 20 page manuscripts to critique by January 3rd. Have I mentioned that I’ve never left my children for more than two days in a row? (Much less twelve!)

This afternoon, while stuck  behind a “must adhere to the speed limit” pokey SUV- so now I’m going to be late to pick up my child from school, I considered the following:

1) It is not necessary to arrange 10 pillows on a bed so that they are in perfect symmetry.

2) It is okay if the clothes stay in the dryer until the next day.

3) Does anyone really care if there are toys on the floor of my living room? Especially when I never have anyone over anyway?

4) Aren’t I going to get my MFA because I love literature, devour books, and write dark, depressing stories that are somehow funny too?  Shouldn’t this be considered a treat, a luxury, rather than the adult equivalent of being afraid of monsters under my bed?

5) A family style box of Kraft Mac and Cheese never hurt anyone.  Really.

Here is my mantra for the week: take care of myself, let down my domestic standards, get ready for the experience of a lifetime, and bake gingerbread men with my girls! So simple, right?  Maybe I’ll start with continuing to write this blog post even as the children use my $250 pashmina wrap as a tent.

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