Shoelaces for Josie

“It’s time to don our cow masks and scare the salad out of her. I love Veggieween.” ~ Sleep Talkin’ Man

“All I want out of life is ice cream and cuddles. Is it too much to ask? Is it?” ~ Sleep Talkin’ Man

Me: “…ummm”

Coworker: “I mean, no offense, but you really, really look terrible today.”

Me: “Uh, thank you…”

Coworker: “You’re wearing a sweatshirt.”

Me: “Yes…”

Coworker: “It’s supposed to be above 90 degrees today.”

Me: “Yes…and?”

Coworker: “Man, you look like death. Really. No offense. You just look like crap.”

Me: *walking away down the hall*

Coworker: *shouting down the hall* “You should go home! You look awful!!”

“My belt holds up my pants, and my pants have belt loops that hold up the belt. What the heck’s* really goin’ on down there? Who is the real hero?”

Mitch Hedberg

I’ve made choices based on finances. Choices I made because I told myself my bank account couldn’t handle a different path. The reality was most of those choices based on finances were made because I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my savings goals or my unwillingness to take out more loans.

I’ve made choices to stay in relationships long past the jump-ship point. Choices I made because I told myself it was better to be with someone than to be alone. Choices I made because I told myself they needed my help – as if I was the only person on the entire planet who had the ability to help them. Seriously, how narcissistic is that? The reality was that I chose to stay. Nobody forced me into it. The yellow-brick road didn’t stop.

I’ve made choices to live and to move. To take a job or keep on looking. To take the fork to the left or keep on going straight. To buy a microwave or do without. Choices, all of them choices, and almost none of them was my back scrunched into a corner. I felt like it – many times I have felt like a cold stone wall was digging into my shoulders as I faced down my decisions with a lone shot in my rifle. But in reality, I just wasn’t looking hard enough for extra shells, and I wasn’t looking in the right places.

Always…never…only…these are ultimatums, and ultimatums are dangerous. They’re also powerful which is why it’s easy to stumble into a choice that looks like a dead-end with nowhere to go. But nowhere to go? Come on, now, are you sure? Climb out of the box canyon. Dig a tunnel. Make a rope. How does that saying go?

What is too much? How do you measure too much? I can measure too much chocolate syrup on my ice cream or too much dip for my chips – if I still have dip on my plate and the chips are gone, then there’s too much dip.

I can measure too much rain. I look in my rain gauge, and I take stock of the ground and the absorption levels and calculate the amount of rain up to this point. When it’s flooding, there’s too much rain.

I can measure too much coffee. I’ve had too much coffee before. My heart flips and twists and races far too quickly. I get jittery and restless. I pace and feel like a heart attack is coming – whatever that feels like. I’ve never had one, and I hope I never do – but I can measure too much coffee.

But how do you measure too much work? Is too much when you shove aside everything else for the sake of your work? How do you measure too much emotion? Too much money? (They say there is no such thing. I disagree.) Too much family time? Too much time spent on things with too little significance?

I have too much going on right now. It’s too much. I know that. I’m admitting that. I want to talk about all this too much-ness, but I can’t. Or I won’t. Mostly I can’t. And it doesn’t matter that I can’t. Well, it does, but it’s how the dice have been rolled, so…it doesn’t matter. Maybe just by admitting that I have too much will help. Even if it’s just a little help, that would be a good thing, I think.