...feels like I'm participating in a triathalon - without the cardio benefits.
It's not just the day job (though that's getting busier by the day); it's the book stuff for my book that's out now, interviews, book signings, etc. (and Universe? I'm not complaining here - I love every minute of it!); book number two that I'm supposed to be working on; and managing the other aspects of my life from washing clothes to picking things up from the dry cleaner to remembering to buy skim milk for my coffee that gets me started at 6:30 every morning. I know when I've reached the point where I can't remember the last time I did a load of laundry, when I'm plucking clothes from the back of my closet because I can't find anything clean in the piles that are in my guest room (and now my own bedroom too!), when I'm too tired at 7pm to even talk on the phone, when I want to go to bed desperately at 8pm even though Lost is coming on in an hour and I really (really!) want to stay up and watch. I'm on autopilot a lot now. I've had black coffee. I've gone commando. I've driven on an empty tank. I have an envelope stuffed full of unanswered mail in my bag, an inbox full of unanswered email, a to-do list that is getting embarrassing, and a head full of static. Worse, I haven't seen the inside of a gym since I bought myself a new pair of workout pants for Christmas.
I'd hire a personal assistant or a cleaning person, but I'm almost too embarrassed to show someone just how long it's been since my kitchen floor had a good mopping or tell them how long my contact lenses have been ready and sitting in a bin at Pearle.
Again, not complaining because I do know what the alternative is; I was there just a few years ago. However I do fear suffocation-by-clothing-piles, having to use a bedsheet to dry myself off after a shower because I have no clean towels, and having bad credit because I haven't had time to go through my overdue bills.