The monday that wasn't
Ah, Monday. Traditionally, my sanctuary, a day dedicated to the art of doing absolutely nothing. A time for indulging in writing, devouring books, and luxuriating in baths that last longer than a Netflix series. But lately, my Mondays have been hijacked by the chaos brigade: my daughter's rehabilitation sessions and the unexpected adventure of homeschooling.
After a weekend that felt like a marathon without a finish line, we all craved rest. But as the world keeps spinning, so does the relentless carousel of life.
The vanishing routine
My once-sacred routine has evaporated like morning mist. The gym, my former temple of sanity, now gathers dust as I gather pounds, seven kilos, to be exact. I suspect I've been hibernating, but without the benefit of a bear's metabolism.
So, this Monday mirrored the new normal: my son, the culinary wizard, in a coma-like slumber after a week of cheffing; my husband, working harder than a squirrel in autumn; and the girls, darting around like caffeinated hummingbirds, each with a schedule that could rival a CEO's.
Sunshine and shadows
Despite the lingering cold that could make a penguin shiver, today the sun made a rare cameo. And oh, how I needed it. In just two days, the forecast promises a thaw, and you'll find me in the garden, armed with tools and dreams, preparing for a season where we can bask in every golden ray.
A stroll down memory lane
Today, I stumbled upon a post that catapulted me into the labyrinth of my career, a journey wilder than a rollercoaster designed by a lunatic. Being self-employed is like juggling flaming swords: exhilarating, dangerous, and not for the faint-hearted. But here we are, still standing, slightly singed but unbroken.
With birthdays piling up like unread emails, I found myself wallowing in nostalgia, a sentiment I usually avoid like the plague. But then, a revelation: nostalgia isn't just about longing for the past; it's a celebration of every milestone conquered, every pothole navigated. As a couple, as a family, we've weathered storms that would make Noah nod in approval. Perhaps that's the silver lining of nostalgia, it reminds us of our resilience.
The ADHD chronicles
Living with ADHD is like hosting a rave in your brain, exciting, chaotic, and utterly exhausting. My thoughts are like caffeinated squirrels, darting in every direction, making focus a mythical concept.
But today, amidst the whirlwind, I decided to embrace the chaos. Instead of fighting the current, I let it carry me, discovering that sometimes, the best ideas emerge from the most turbulent streams.
The comedy of errors
Life, as it turns out, is a sitcom, and I'm both the writer and the punchline. From misplacing my keys in the refrigerator to accidentally sending a love note meant for my husband to my child's teacher (thankfully, she has a sense of humor), each day is an episode of "What Will She Do Next?"
But in this comedy of errors, I've learned to laugh at myself, to find joy in the absurdity, and to appreciate the beautifully imperfect script that is my life.
Embracing the madness
As I pen down these musings, I realize that perfection is a myth, routine is overrated, and chaos is the spice of life. So here's to the unscripted moments, the unplanned detours, and the unfiltered laughter. After all, it's the madness that makes the journey memorable.
all images are prompted and created by Midjourney out of very fatigue brain, which is mine
