I have to keep reminding myself to breath. There just doesn’t seem to be time to do that. I’m running, running, running and getting nowhere fast.

A recap of the last three days.

Tuesday. Wake up at 4:30, pack the last few things. Shower. Get in the car and sit for 10 hours. Arrive at home at 3:30. Check the house … the house doesn’t look nearly as clean as I thought I’d left it. But it is … I’m just slightly neurotic. Unpack all the dirty clothes and sort into hampers with the LightChildren. Get back into the car with hockey gear. Go to hockey practice. Re-connect with team and parents. Make certain discoveries about a dinner of crow that I must eat. Return home for twenty minutes. Run out to another meeting til about 10:15. Second meeting a complete waste of time.

While en route to second meeting (this meeting is at Curves and is part of a non-diet guided eating program I am participating in), I see a very large and obese woman driving in a car near me. She is eating something scrumptious. I immediately become jealous and angry with her. What is WRONG with me? Now I’m jealous of large, overweight women?? Because they can eat whatever they want without dire consequences. I, on the other hand, suffer bags of hot nails when I eat scrumptious things. There is no justice. Not that I actually **want** to blow up like a blimp, but … you know … I also want some ice cream. I am having to face my inner demons of emotional eating. They are legion. When you really do only eat to live and can no longer use food as a tool to assuage every other emotion you have … well … then you have to actually feel the other emotions. It can get dicey. Let’s just also say that these last several days have been those particular days when a woman has *lots* of extra emotions to feel and leave it at that.

Wednesday. Wake up at 6 a.m. and wonder what on God’s green earth is wrong with me that I’m up so early. But I’m going to run with it. Make a “to do” list. It looks do-able. Start on the “to-do” list. Get side-tracked by breakfast. Get sidetracked again by attempting to locate cereal which was mis-packed from trip home. Continue this downward spiral. Eventually end up writing e-mail, making phone calls and then eating breakfast by 10 a.m. Remember that meal of crow? Yes. That too, was eaten on this fine morning.

Leave at 1 p.m. Take LightBoy to Latin class. Go to my counseling session. It was a good session. Several epiphanies were illuminated and I felt lighter. Return to pick up LightBoy and do some block design with BlazingEwe and another friend. This turned into some supportive counseling for all three of us. Return home. Turn around and take LightGirl to another session of hockey practice. Home by 9:30.

Today. Up at 6 again. Screw the to do list. It just highlights my shortcomings. Take LightGirl to her follow up orthopedist appointment. She has been released to full play. No goalie yet. She has to be able to drop and get up without using her stick for support (about another 4 to 6 weeks). Come home. Fight with the printer to print ONE page. Lose the fight. Go to Staples for school supplies and to laminate a couple of things. Fight with LightBoy over booksock. Win the fight. He pouts. Return home for lunch. Leave again for my annual physical. My doctor is very concerned that I have not been recuperating from my little bout with pancreatitis very well. She says I need to see the gastroenterologist … like … tomorrow. Not next month. So. I am. Return and spend time with Blazing Ewe. Go to grocery store. Have dinner. Fight with LightBoy over spinach salad. Win again. He doesn’t pout.

One interesting thing happened while I waited for my doctor’s appointment. There was a young boy about LightGirl’s age also in the waiting room. He had on a very nice pair of sneakers. He also had a cell phone. All of a sudden, I noticed he took off one of his shoes and put it on a chair. He stood up, backed away from the chair and took a photo of his shoe with the cell phone. Now … I don’t know about any of you … but I am dying to know why he took that photo. There just has to be a good story there.

Tomorrow, I go back to the doctors … the gastro’s at 8:15 a.m.

I just want to get into the school room and clean it up. I need to plan next week. I want to get some organizing done so we can get this show on the road. It’s just killing me. Maybe tomorrow afternoon.

It’s just been a killer re-entry … that’s all I can say.