Eh, that just makes everything sound more cheerful than it is. :shoots person playing circus music:
Like Meredith Grey (Grey's Anatomy), I'm feeling all dark and twisty today. Which means I'm treading light around family and pets. Good thing Hubs and Daughts are both still sleeping. So far only the cats have been treaded lightly around. It's not their fault I crawled out from under the wrong side of the rock this morning.
But enough about me and my angsty, hormonal, pissy little whining self.
I've got balls... In the air, I mean. At least I had them in the air for a short time there. I was writing, and editing, and revising. I was cat-mothering, and Daughter-mothering, and housewifing, and crocheting, and reading. I even worked in a little exercising. I was juggling like mad. (Hence the circus music.)
This morning, I woke up to find most of the balls were already scattered around me, and the few I had left in the air I wanted to chuck at someone's head. (No one's in particular - just the first available head.) I want to get in the car, leaving my balls behind for someone else to pick up.
'Cept I can't.
My juggling act may not be pretty, but it's mine. It may not even be as difficult as most people's. Lord knows if I was really as jammed as I felt, I wouldn't have time for TV, right?
So, even as dark and twisty as I feel, I'll juggle one-handed while I use the other hand to pick up whatever balls I've dropped. I'll drop them again - that's a given. From time to time, I may even have to use my feet. I may be as graceful as an elephant on a unicycle for a while, but the balls will get juggled.
If it kills me. (Or lands me in the loony bin.)
How do you keep all your balls in the air? Ever want to just chuck them at someone?