I'm in freak out mode. Not quite full-on breathing-into-a-paper-bag-crying-hysterically-curled-up in-a-corner-babbling-incoherently freak out....but I can kind of see it coming. I have so much to do, and can't start anything, or finish anything (do those cancel each other out?), and I pretty much just want to hide. My typical stress response.

Am I entitled to feel stressed? Let's consider this past week:

VBS every morning until noon--which required me to be far more active over a sustained period of time than I am accustomed to being, so my body felt tired, sore, and generally outraged. I think it's still mad at me.

Work nearly every night--which I have oodles of resentment for anyway, given the ridiculously low wage I receive for the headaches of retail, which I swore I would never return to, and yet here I am. Not to mention that it takes me away from my family, which I loathe...yeah, yeah, I know I'm doing this to help said family, and it's the only thing that I could find that would let me work evenings and weekends...doesn't matter, I still detest the necessity. At least in my more pessimistic moments--can you tell that this is one?

Carved out time to celebrate my anniversary--okay, not a stress at all, other than finding someone to watch the kids (thank you little brother), and actually pretty enjoyable. Grown up time with my sweetheart. Can't really complain about that. So I won't. Just another event on the agenda.

Squeezed in a visit with my dearest friend and her kids, literally sandwiched between VBS and work, again, something I loved doing, so not really complaining, it just added to a jampacked week.

That same night, after working till ten, picked up my parents from the airport and welcomed them back from France--again, enjoyable, but the day simply wouldn't end.

Completed two commissioned signs for a newly-uncled friend of mine. Still have one to go.

And I have company coming over tomorrow, because I can't bear not having a 4th celebration...but it means I have to spend all of today (except for right now; can we say "avoidance"?) cleaning my house. Probably be up until after midnight working on it, because that's just how this always turns out. That's how I roll.

But the big, overriding thing that I think I haven't really been dealing with, and that I think is tipping the balance over into freak-out, is my upcoming surgery. I'm having gastric bypass--holy crap, did I just say that in a semi-public forum?? But, yeah. Three weeks until I overhaul my body and my way of life. It's kind of huge.

I think I'm more nervous than I realized, and I haven't had time to think about it--even though, I forgot to mention, this week I also had to squeeze in a couple doctor visits to get ten (!!) vials of blood drawn, have an EKG, drink barium so that they could x-ray my esophagus (I have a few choice words for the person who tried to make that horrendous crap taste better by adding "strawberry" flavor) and meet with the surgeon. You'd think those things would put this topic front and center in my cranium, but no. Instead it's been simmering in the back where I can't get a good look at it.

Sooooooooo....commence freak out!!! Maybe I'm feeling a little justified to have some moderate hysterics...but the floor isn't cleaning itself, it's lunch time for little ones, I have to get the homemade ice cream started for tomorrow...I really don't have time. Maybe Monday. I'll pencil that in.