I swear that someone is stealing away with large chunks of my precious time. There is no other explanation for time running out each and every day.

Still, I find myself oddly calm for marathon day being a short 2 weeks away. It’s possible the calmness is due to denial. More than likely, it’s because I’ve still got too much to do and cannot afford to let myself get wrapped up in pre-race worries. At least not yet.

I can’t even let myself worry about having to cut this week’s long run short due to knee pain. There is so much else to busy my mind with. And with the time stealing away, I must hurry up with getting things lined up for the boys, dog, house, and…myself.

After my beautiful backpacking adventure, I returned to find the contents of my refrigerator not quite cold. My front yard showed off a more distinct browning with a lush green section highlighting the leaky sprinkler head. Holding onto the memories of dome-top views, I refrained from melting down.

This morning however, when little thing after little thing chipped away at my tolerance, I finally lost it. A back up in my kitchen sink, thanks to a teenager who isn’t used to having to scrape food scraps into the garbage rather than the disposal, remained after two treatments of Drano. I pulled on my yellow gloves, donned an apron and, with plunger in hand, I made a final attempt to free the blockage. No luck. I turned to my refrigerator only to find the door had been left ajar AGAIN. I groaned, pushed it shut, and prayed that the issues surrounding my less than cold food were from actions like this rather than the need for a new appliance. Then I turned to take in the rest of my house.

Junk mail and gum wrappers were strewn across the countertop, a dead rose sat in a vase of water on the dining room table, and the back to the computer keyboard’s battery compartment lay in the living room (far away from where the computer that refuses to recognize the keyboard sits). *sigh*

I went into the bathroom and reached from some toilet paper to blow my nose. There was none – of course. Just like there was none in MY bathroom this morning. [meltdown/tirade starts NOW] Storming around the house, I replaced the toilet paper which was basically missing from ALL three bathrooms. I picked up garbage and glasses, threw out the junk mail, pushed in chairs, and basically tried to return my house to a state in which I can function properly. I thought about how I’d cut the weekly house cleaning to save money – yet here I was barely able to keep up with clutter management. [feet are now stomping and doors begin slamming HERE]

I empty my backpack from that wonderful vacation, wishing I could go back there RIGHT NOW, throw the clothes into the washing machine, and prepare to leave the house. I’m out of coffee which means I won’t have my usual latte for the morning drive. I grab my water canteen and reach for my pitcher of filtered water. It’s missing. I look all around the counter, in the other rooms, and in the refrigerator. It’s nowhere to be found. I begin to lose it.

In walks BoBo. “Momma, what happened?” I start to cry and complain. He just hugs me as I sob. It’s all small stuff; I know this but I can’t help it. It’s hard going from paradise to long work days and a world that seems to be falling apart. My 18 year old son tells me not to worry, that he’ll “take care of it.” Damn. He’s trying to be such the man. And even though I wonder if it’s too much to ask of him, I tell him to wear gloves and show him where to look for the pipe blockage.

I leave for work – trying to remind myself that this ain’t nothing compared to all that I’ve been through. Still…it kinda sucks.

It’s hard to believe it’s been 26 years since I graduated from high school. That’s right, I said TWENTY SIX YEARS! My how time flies.

So much has transpired since then. Some good. Some bad. Some things to be proud of. Others not

TWENTY SIX YEARS! It hardly feels that long. Yet…my first-born has also completed his high school years and my youngest is starting middle school. If that wasn’t enough of a reminder, there’s a high school reunion tomorrow to help signify the passing of time.

Unlike my 20 year reunion (the only one I braved attending), this one is with multiple classes. 1976 – 1984 to be exact.

Also unlike my 20 year, my best friend from high school will NOT be there. Gulp. In my high school years, I could not go to the restroom without her. How the heck do I think I can do this without her? And will the big kids be nice or will they put the new girl in the trash? That *is* where the freshman hung out in school you know.

I’m so nervous I’ve popped out a pimple and started topping my I’s with hearts and flowers. Oh wait, that’s grade school.

Seriously, I am as nervous as the first day of high school. Never mind how do I get there; there are more critical items to address. What do I wear? How do I do my hair? And what sort of escape plan shall I develop in case things get rough? This *is* high school you know.

I’m in the process of self-medicating for condition called acute sticker shock. If I’m not careful, it will turn into chronic sticker shock.

I’m scared. More than scared. I’m worried that too quickly I will be a woman desperate to sell her house — who is on the verge of homelessness.

Obviously, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. Still, it’s pretty obvious that I’ve been sheltered from the cost of feeding my growing teen. On one hand, I think I’ve stopped (or at least slowed) the feeding of the entire neighborhood. On the other, BoBo is eating at home more now thats spending cash is running out.

I can’t keep enough food in my house to feed us and I surely can’t afford to pay for groceries at the rate we are going. I don’t know how other single parents do it.

My next action will be to identify areas were I can cut back further. Luxuries like races and perhaps my gym membership will have to go. You know what that means, don’t you?

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