It all adds up

I sat down this morning to start this blog, for the third time in a week, and got sidetracked yet again. This time with the laundry. My family is on code-red: No underwear. My 5-year old son decided to go commando to school today and I pretended not to notice.

So before I started writing, I figured I better get the first load in the wash, because it only takes a minute. Mission accomplished, back to the blog. As I stare at the blank page, I remember how I used to write when I felt like it, without a care in the world. I didn’t get behind on the laundry because I just wasn’t that busy. And if an idea struck, I could run with it, at my leisure.

While I contemplate my article, I decide to take a quick look at my email – big mistake. The first one is a notice from Rogers that I’ve exceeded my data usage on my cell phone plan and am about to get charged an exorbitant amount of money. I try to log in to our account and can’t remember which password to use. Every password I try, fails. I only use a couple of sure-thing passwords so I don’t get confused, but they’re all useless. After the third fail I get a nasty message to call my provider – for what? In case someone else is trying to hack into my account to pay my bills? So I call. The lady on the phone tells me I’m not the main account holder.

“That’s my husband,” I say. “But it’s my cell phone I’m calling about. It’s all on one plan.”

“Are you authorized to make decisions on this account?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you…”

“Oh I heard you, are you serious?”

I finally convince this star customer service rep that indeed, yes, I can make decisions on our account. As for my data usage problem –  apparently I shouldn’t have been watching the Olympics on my phone while I was getting my hair done.

Back to the blog. While still mulling over what to write, I notice the date and freeze. Shit, I need to book camping for our summer holidays and registration just opened today.  If I don’t do it now, the good sites will be gone and everyone will be upset. By the time I log in, all the good sites are gone anyway because I wasn’t sitting at the computer at 7am waiting to push that button. Why? Because I was making the kids’ lunches and trying to find my son some underwear. Shit, shit, shit. I’ll have to go back in a few weeks and check for cancellations.

Back to the blog, finally, at 11am… God, I’m hungry. I forgot to eat breakfast, again. I fire up a frozen salmon burger in the grill pan and notice the dishes on the counter from this morning. Didn’t I ask the kids to put their cereal bowls in the dishwasher? Pretty sure I did. I’ll just tidy that up quickly, because it only takes a minute, then I can work while my burger cooks.

As I sit back down, the sound of the buzzer on the washing machine makes me jump right back up and I run down to change the loads, because if the clothes go cold and wrinkle then I’ll have to iron them, and I hate ironing. I fly back upstairs and fold them. There. Done.

Shit, my burger has burned. Great, now what am I going to eat? I unwrap a granola bar, jam it in my mouth and storm back to my desk. What the hell was I doing? Right, paying the cell phone bill… no, I was starting my blog.

Now, before you assume I have ADD, let me assure you that I don’t. And I know this because I’ve already asked my doctor, my therapist and my holistic whateversheis. I don’t have ADD. I have small stuff. That whole “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” mentality is a load of crap in my world (no offense Richard Carlson).

And when my husband comes home tonight and innocently asks “What did you get up to today?” I will fly into a tirade and storm around the house in a huff, totally defeated, because the house looks exactly the same as it did when he left this morning. And when I try to think about “what I did all day”, I will draw a blank.

I sweat the small stuff because my life is the small stuff.