My Mother’s in town.
(If I were wise, I’d end it here. Period.)
She came into town to “help me.” And, as always…
I somehow end up feeling worse for wear.
I’m away from home for the next two days (Saturday & Sunday) – another set of workshops.
She came to help me with a couple of projects. (Few of which have gotten done.)
And, hold down the fort while I’m away. By taking care of the daily household stuff. So, when I get home I can head right to bed.
She’s done this before.
However… Somehow it never ends up that way.
I end up more stressed out. Mysteriously with more things than normal to do in each day. Unsure how exactly she’s spending her time. Just knowing it’s not doing my household things.
The computer’s only up & open right now because she raced out of the house. Saying she had to run some important errands, which apparently includes mailing a box.
I don’t say what I want. We could have easily done that earlier when we were out. Instead of her heading out in traffic the same direction we spent most of the day.
She perplexes me. I really don’t understand.
When it comes to time, I’m organized & efficient. She’s like a pair of pants whose elastic has worn out.
I’ve spent my life fighting this. Trying to understand it. (This is an issue not related to age.)
It’s just something about how her mind works. She can’t plan out a day.
I plan to head to bed around 6:30pm. (Maybe 6pm depending on her mood.)
Take something that will make me sleep. (I’ve been having some severe allergic reactions which require Benadryl. So, that’s easy to do.)
She leaves Monday afternoon. By which time, I’ll feel like I’ve been hit by a tsunami.
Exhausted. Scattered. Broken. Bruised.
I’ll try to be back as soon as I can. But… I’m a little concerned. About where I may land.
Because the next couple of days are going to test me in that special way that only Mother can.