Sometimes it is not fair. I mean, I’m trying to get behind this whole compassionate take on life thing. I’m trying to find out if letting up on the beatings causes a drop in productivity or an increase in morale or something else entirely. So really, life could stop pointing out all my control issues. I wouldn’t mind.

I like to know what is going to happen next. Unexpected shifts of schedule unnerve me. Last week, with kids home from school sick: unnerving. Waiting for a return visit to the doctor: unnerving. Amorphous plans that coalesce suddenly (or evaporate entirely!): unnerving.

Then there are hormones. Can I just say that I hate them? I’ve never been clear about whether the hormones at pms time cause me to perceive issues that are always there and then freak out about them, or if the hormones themselves are the issue. Net result is the same: woman standing crying in the kitchen with knuckles in eyes like a little kid for totally inadequate reasons. This is not how I like to be.

Always there are the tensions between the creative process and its own messy sense of when things happen and the reassurance of routine. The grandiose plans that would be really really cool, but how will dinner get made? What about clean underwear?

These things panic me. So far today I am keeping it together. I would like a medal. Yes, I am that silly.