I had plans to write every other day this month. My outline sits abandoned. The post for March 6 sits unpublished, 8 – unwritten, and here we are on the 10th, 35 minutes before midnight and I have nothing written. These deadlines are arbitrary. They are my self-imposed deadlines, but I like to place them on myself because some days, I need a target, and this month, I felt strong enough. Not fueled by grief or depression, but in a better place.

I seriously had three ‘in the bag’ and pretty much written before the month began.

Then it fell apart and that old boat, she keeps sinking. While I can’t pinpoint when it went wrong, I am going to point at the switch to Day Lights Savings. It has done me since I was very, very little. My Mom said in infancy it screwed me up, and never fail, twice a year, I’d be up almost all night, unable to sleep. If I did sleep, it would be for a an hour or two just before I’d have to get up for the day. It would take me nearly a week to sort myself out again.

As an adult, I am better at the actual shift in time. I don’t agonize about moments lost – missing the hour lost or gained. It just ‘is’. But something deeper in me just gets knocked about and it sets me into some kind of circadian tailspin that affects all my systems.

But this time? I just can’t. Can’t get things done.

Can’t cook, can’t eat. Can’t sleep.

Can’t get the books done. Can’t get the taxes sorted. Can’t make the calls.

So, I sit. In my chair, coffee cold beside me, lost in thought, but no thoughts are formed. And the slightest thought makes me start crying. Like sobbing uncontrollably. A simple text exchange with my sister about preparing my Mom’s home for sale set me into a 40 minute sobfest, with the realization I am not ready and I would do just about anything to avoid it.

The thing with being an adult is life doesn’t care if I can’t. It doesn’t take a break. Taxes are due and calling Revenue Canada and telling them I just couldn’t get my stuff together won’t get me a break. The family is still hungry at 6pm and the months of ‘YOYO’ dinners is getting really old. 2025 aged me, and while 2026 isn’t a non-stop stress fest, it is a pressure-cooker and no beauty regime is stopping the wrinkle bus. I have to make calls – I keep putting things off because I don’t want to do them, and the thing is, they are still there tomorrow, they bring friends, and then the worst happens… I start forgetting things.

Yesterday, I made a list. Today, I still know where the list is! Maybe I should add that to the list.

The point of this is, well, I am not sure. Maybe that I am just lost and wandering. I am sad and it’s one of those times when my Mom would know just what to do. But that’s the cruelness of the world, they took my Mom and I’m left to sort this shit out with my sister and she isn’t much of a better adult than I am. ❤ She is just better at rescuing cats.