Sunday evening, after shlepping the last bin of stinky stuff to the car, lumbering home, and tottering up the stairs, I collapsed. I was completely done in. I had been holding up bravely to cross that final finish line and that was it. Face down in the pillow.
Monday was a day off to collect my sanity. And today is going to be a rather large day of digging out from under the tremendous pile of stuff here. Four shows of inventory were piled up in all corners and they need to be unpacked and re-grouped. Orders that have waited since the end of last week need to be shipped out lickety split. And little bitty tags need to be applied to another round of goods for the Allied Arts gallery in Bellingham. I'll be up there tomorrow morning to fill in any holes. So if you've stopped in there the last few days and I was out of your favorite item - not to worry. There is plenty more and it's on it way. If I can only find it here under the mountain of boxes.
I'm also trying to figure out if my method of always making my list too long, constantly biting off more than I can chew, etc. is helpful or really sinking me. It dawned on me the other night that this is really crazy making and I did it all to myself. If I made a short list, would I be blissfully happy because I was constantly accomplishing my goals and had time left over? Or would I just be accomplishing a whole lot less? If I made a truthful and realistic list, would I accomplish just as much, or more, and not be quite as harried? Is my reaching for more than is humanly possible motivating me to do more? Or just stressing me out?
It's just the season of madness, I guess. And nobody ever quite figures out how to do it all. In the end you do what you can do. Accept what you can't. Be happy with whatever happens. And just keep trudging along.