The Tipping (Over) Point.
Somehow today I managed to leave the house in wrinkled pants, with unshaven spots on my face, without my breakfast and without doing the dishes that have piled up over the past few nights
My desk at home is covered with papers; I stuffed the most relevant ones into my bag and got to my desk here at work, which is also covered with papers. I predict that this evening I will stuff the most relevant ones back into my bag and take them back home again.
I am fielding calls about all the various projects I am late on; I am forgetting the things at the store that I went there for. I am not even certain where my lists are.
And yet somehow, I am in a great mood. With weekend plans for shopping and cocktailing, and maybe for art or exercise, I have a couple of days to find a balance point again.
Wrinkles and all.