I don’t know what the hell I’m doing

Do you ever have those moments, usually in the midst of chaos, where you just suddenly realize that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing? It’s as if you are no longer an adult, capable of making decisions, but more like a child trying to navigate an insanely huge world.

I’ve had that moment so many times lately. I’ll stand in my house and look at all the unpacked boxes and think about moving and the work that needs to be done in our new place and I just think I. Don’t.  Know. What. I’m.  Doing. Seriously, it is as if my brain ceases to function and I go into panic mode.

Of course,  the tasks are not insurmountable;  it’s replacing blinds and buying a dishwasher and packing our shit into boxes. It’s not rocket science and it’s definitely not brain surgery. But, I can’t find it in myself to do it. Instead, I want to lay on the floor and scream and kick and yell,  “I don’t want to!!”

I mean, I obviously don’t,  but I think about it for a long time.

You could blame it on stress or apathy or whatever you like. You could psychoanalyze me til the cows come home.  You could tell me I’m overloaded, overworked, or just over it, and you’d be right.

But, throwing a tantrum won’t help and pretending to not be an adult won’t work either. So, at some point in the next few days, I have to pull my socks up, take a breath, and get it together. Then,  when the move is done and September is here and the chaos is even more chaotic, and I still don’t know what I’m doing,  I can throw a big ol’ middle finger to the world like any self respecting teenager would and know that eventually I will get it together,  eventually I will feel like an adult.

I mean, I have to, right?

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