At 9.40pm last night, after half watching Interior Design Masters, half pointlessly scrolling on my phone, I peeled myself off the sofa, tired and ready for bed.
Tired, is a perpetual state that has become to define my adult life. That and the word disorganised, with a side dose of daily ‘why am I so dysfunctional?’.
As I lumbered up to bed, while doing my best impression of an extra from The Walking Dead, I was anticipating the sweet, engulfing release of sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
But of course, this would be a pretty pointless start to a blog post if that was indeed what had happened.
Nope, instead my mind started to wander.
My mind went to that place where you suddenly end up asking yourself the question of “what the actual f*ck am I doing with my life?”. And I can reliably inform you that, that place, is quite the rabbit hole.
The thing is, I honestly thought that, at 35, I would know the answer to this question by now.
I also thought I’d have a pension, a functioning kitchen, healthy finances, and a career that doesn’t make people scrunch their nose and say “sorry, you do what for a living?”. I also assumed I’d possess the ability to not feel completely out of control and incompetent on a daily basis.
However, no matter how hard I try to become organised, it seems to make very little difference.
Even the parts of the house that I Marie Kondo the shit out of, go to pot. I have all the kids bags and coats ready by the front door in the evening, but we still forget things the following day. I tell myself that shouty Mum isn’t welcome, but she still shows up in time for the school run. And my brain apparently isn’t capable of holding and processing all the information I need it to.
What I can’t work out, is whether I put too much pressure on myself to be perfect? Or if there’s a way to improve on what is an objectively happy life? Or perhaps, finding it all so stressful is actually just a bit pathetic?
If I’m worried about not having a pension yet, then why not research it? If I can’t remember everything in the morning, then write a goddam checklist. And Marie Kondo-ing the shit out of stuff, isn’t only my responsibility. There are five people in this house (albeit some younger than others), who need to pull their weight too.
Although the daily routine and chaos, has a lot to do with how I’m feeling. I think that perhaps other factors have come into play too.
This September, my youngest started primary and my eldest middle school and these changes have been more impactful than anticipated. Coupled with, finding myself stood at a 40th birthday party last weekend, feeling like only seconds had passed between that and the same friend’s 30th. I guess you could say, I’m feeling overwhelmed by a sense of how fleeting life is and how important it is to make it what you want it to be.
The emphasis being on the ‘make it’. Because, if there’s one thing I’m becoming more aware of, it’s that life is what you make of it.
And as I come to the end of this blog post, I realise that there’s a common thread between my life and this, because in truth, I’m not quite sure where I’m going with it.
But then, maybe it’s less about the destination and more about the journey after all.