fuck

I've been here before. It all seems so damned familiar, you'd think it would make it easier, having done it before... It isn't easier, just... fuck, I don't know if there is a word for it, but easier isn't it.

The last couple of days have just been those days - the ones that I struggle through, wrestle with the simple things, get overwhelmed by anything more than drinking coffee and staring at nothing. Last night' dinner dishes didn't get done until this afternoon, and they only got done then because Ma did them. I did finally manage to get the bags unpacked from our beach trip - that was an awful lot like work, and I had to force myself to do it - and all the clothes were clean, folded, and separated. I can barely remember to take care of myself, let alone my kids, my husband, my other obligations.

I have appointments to schedule (and attend) phone calls to make, a freakin email newsletter to write up and get out, paperwork to do. The phone keeps ringing, teachers, customers, bill collectors...

I just want to crawl into a hole. Pretend the world stopped turning. All so familiar, and yet, no easier.