I'm struggling even just to type this right now, while my brain attempts to channel William Shatner.
Still. need. to. clean. bathrooms. and. floors. and. do. last minute. planning. but. can't. think. or. move.
Part of me really wants to move, tired and sore as I am; there's too much to be done not to. But these annoying contractions that are popping up between my broken thoughts are a too-constant reminder that I've already overdone it today. My uterus appears to be more irritated than I am, lately.
The show must go on, however. Michael's finally getting baptized tomorrow, more people than I think can reasonably fit in this tiny house will be stopping by to celebrate both the sacrament and his upcoming birthday, and I want to feel excited, but I can't.
I'm too busy feeling unprepared.
So, excuse me while I go find a pillow to hide my head under (or some Facebook nonsense to distract myself with, or some mindless game to kill the time). If I can't stop worrying, and I can't take action, maybe I can at least find a way to shut it all out.
Yeah, not gonna happen, but I'd like to give it a try, all the same.