I don't know what is with me lately. I feel so busy, so crazed. I'm running around like my clothes are on fire. I make huge to-do lists and adhere to them like the gospel, running myself ragged trying to cross everything off. Suddenly all the home maintenance we have ignored for years feels urgent. Like, I'm lying awake worried the house is going to fall down kind of urgent. (No, our house is not in any real danger of falling down, but it does need a $7,000 paint job to keep it from rotting.) I am calling repairmen, scheduling car maintenance, running errands, cleaning the house. Every day, it seems, I wake up and there is more to do than I could possibly fit into my waking hours.
I can't figure out if I am actually busier than in the past, or if I am just making myself nuts. I think I am just more worried about all there is to be done. Less able to rest in the middle of things that are undone. I can't seem to get myself to accept lately that you can never get to the end of the list. I have this crazed compulsion to get everything--every damned thing on earth--done before I rest. That is a tiring way to live.
I realized today as I was doing my job, ticking off things on my to-do list, that I wasn't just getting things done. I was working with fear at my back. Behind every action was fear. Fear of what? Fear that I wouldn't get it all done, that I would run out of time, that I would be a failure, that there is more to do than I can handle and I just can't hack it. I said to myself, "This is not life or death work. Just do your job in the time you have. There's no reason to be afraid." But I'm still trying to make myself believe it.