My car needs a good wash. There’s laundry to be folded. I have 3 unfinished short stories and a novel screaming my name. The milk expired 2 days ago. Do you ever just want to scream and throw yourself overboard?
I have anxiety (me and a thousand others) and sometimes the smallest of tasks can send me into an unorganized fit. But I suppose being overly concerned about making the bed is better than not caring at all? Maybe. At least I get things done.
But that feeling is then pushed aside on the days when I can barely drag myself out from under the sheets. What then? The car remains dirty and the laundry stays in the basket. Cue the anxiety again.
I need a vacation.