Cleaning Lady vs. Football

Oh the humanity. What to do, what to do? A friend has suggested that I get a cleaning lady. Luckily, this suggestion did not come as a direct result of visiting my home. Instead, after a conversation that went like so many of my recent conversations. You know, it starts out normal, how are you blah blah blah. Then it becomes “I can’t keep up, I can’t say no, I’m never home, my blinds are dirty and will you just LOOK at the ceiling fans?” On second thought, don’t look at my ceiling fans for they are dirty, my friend.

My house is a disaster. I have stuff everywhere. I may be overstating, and I understand this, however I am this close to calling the garbage people and having a dumpster dropped off so I can fill it with myriad items I no longer want or need. Broken things, long forgotten things I don’t need or want.

A cleaning person might be just what I need to help control the anxiety attacks I have been having. We are all aware of my idiosyncratic methods of leaving my house. But lately, it doesn’t stop at checking the stove a few times, or the iron, or the garage door or the hair dryer. It continues on to “oh my God what if I’m in an accident and someone has to come over to feed the dog and sees the stuff on the stairs I haven’t carried up yet, or the dishes that are clean, but not put away, or the toys on the floor or god in heaven the dirty ceiling fans.” It spins and spirals out of control until I am almost in tears and seconds from not leaving the house at all.

Now, I understand this is a problem, I do. I also understand that there are a few things I can do to remedy (or try to remedy) the situation. But along with all of my other issues, I have the big problem of not being able to say no. So every day I think of things I’m going to get done this weekend. Then think of how much better I’m going to feel when it’s done. It will save me from angst. Then something happens, or someone calls and it’s suddenly Sunday night and I have accomplished NOTHING on the list. Not. One. Thing. And here were are starting all over again, only this time new and improved with more guilt.

I’m getting off this roller coaster, I am telling you right now. I am. I don’t yet know how, but I am trying. Right after I work out my fantasy football team. (I know, but sheesh, a girl’s gotta have some priorities, no??)

Karma

Today is September 11. For generations to come, when you say the words "September Eleventh" or "Nine One One" the events of this day five years ago will be remembered. This day changed all of our lives. It is our generation's Kennedy Assassination. We all remember where we were, what we did, etc. I was at work, a co-worker's girlfriend (now his wife) called him and said a plane hit the WTC. I had an appointment with my OB, as I was about 6 months pregnant with Anna. We were sent home because our office was relatively close to the Toledo Airport and somehow our office manager got word that United Flight 93 was in Cleveland airspace and had been hijacked. Since we were near the airport, they sent us home. I assume we'd have been sent home regardless, but that was the event that provoked it first. I was glued to the television, like so many of you, for days. I couldn't watch, but I couldn't stop watching. This day changed all of us.

My friend Vanessa's husband Randy's US Army's Reserve Unit was activated and sent overseas. They were activated directly as a result of 9/11. He served us for over a year. Vanessa was here in Ohio, and we were not yet friends, had not yet met. I transferred to the office she works in and remember there was a drive to send stuff to Randy and his unit. I barely knew Vanessa then, but sent a box over there (girl scout cookies if memory serves.) Since then, Vanessa and I have become very very close friends. Randy came home and they wanted to start a family. September 11 was such a defining moment in their lives, more than mine, more than so many of us who only saw it on TV. Randy sacrificed himself, his wife, his family. For me, for all of us. He was one of the lucky ones to come home, back to all of us.

How ironic that his son shall be born today, of all days. Owen Karl Smith will be born today. Vanessa is in labor right now. I can not wait to meet Owen and tell him how lucky he is. How lucky all of us are.

Peace.

Sad

Sometimes, when you're trying to make everyone happy...it has the opposite effect and makes everyone so very very sad.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I try to be everything to everyone. I'm sorry I try so hard. I'm sorry if my trying to do things for everyone makes you feel like I don't do enough for you. I didn't mean to make you sad. And now I am sad. And we are sad. I'm going to try to fix it, I promise.

I'm so incredibly sorry.