Overwhelmed, Again

Every so often it seems that life deals me a series of blows, not necessarily physical blows, or severe problems. I'm talking mainly about time blows. Time is the most precious commodity I have. It seems that whenever I carve out time for writing, other things are left undone. Eventually they pile up, and I have an emotional overload over all that I must do.

It happened yesterday. The day at work wasn't too bad. I had one task added that I wasn't thrilled with, but all in all not bad. I came home, however, to a house that was a mess, and an at-home to-do list a mile long. I went through several days of mail, sorted the bills, paid one that was due yesterday, and put paper in our recycling bag. I was supposed to have started the dishwasher and cleaned the microwave, but had forgotten.

In the mail was a notice from a collection agency about an old medical bill I had failed to pay. The service was from October 2011, the bill from that November. I didn't pay it all, I remember, because I was waiting on insurance, then I wanted to question insurance on an unpaid amount. Well, I never got around to doing so. Four months later they had sent it to a collection agency, and yesterday a different collection agency letter came. I then spent an hour sorting through old bills, trying to reconcile the amount (a little over $250) with amounts billed and reimbursed, but I couldn't.

But I did discover that the payment I made on a different medical bill almost two weeks ago had never been credited. I couldn't call anyone about either bill at 9 p.m., so I started shoving things into my folder to take to work. I then sorted papers for filing and took them downstairs, to The Dungeon, where they joined another large pile. I also found a card I was supposed to mail three days ago, and the automobile registrations I wanted to take care of a week ago.

Remembering the missing photos from China that I wanted to find, I spent a fruitless half hour looking for them, stepping over boxes pulled from shelves in the storage room and never returned. I didn't find the photos.

Before long it was 11 p.m. I was beat. I piddled around at something for a half-hour, becoming more and more frustrated. Finally I decided The heck with it, and went to bed. I slept well at least, catching up a little from a sleep deficit I've been running.

All of which is probably of no interest to anyone but me.

Today was better. I paid that old bill and asked the doctor/hospital to call off their collection goons. I taught my class at noon, and that went well (despite losing my PowerPoint file with less than an hour left before class; I was able to recover it). Tonight I came home at the usual time with a better attitude. I heated leftovers for supper and put other leftovers in the freezer. I cleaned what I was suppose to clean, added the checkbook, filed some papers, and...

...and it all seemed better. I still have a mound of papers yet to be filed. I still have to mail that card, and get back to working on taxes, and find the missing photos, and do who knows what else. But I'm feeling better. Busy days ahead. I don't think I'll go to Barnes & Noble after work tomorrow (something I normally do on a Friday evening when both my wife and mother-in-law are away). Instead I'll come home and get a few more things done, maybe finalize my writing profit/loss for 2012. If everything holds, I'll end tomorrow in better shape mentally than I am today.

All of which is still probably of no interest to anyone but me, but....