The new year is not quite three days old and I’m stressed out already. My 2011 calendar is staring me in the face and even though I keep blinking, it doesn’t seem to want to let me surrender. If January 2011 is any indication, I’m in for a yearlong migraine, and possibly a brain tumor.
For some reason at the end of December each year I always think that come January 1st, I’ll be able to take my calendar and perform some kind of ritual do-over, kind of like shaking an Etch A Sketch and erasing all previous commitments.
But since becoming a mom, it seems like my calendar is like something out of a horror movie. A force beyond my control is feeding it constantly— things like play dates, music classes, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, plus the actual jobs that bring me income — and it’s getting fatter and more demanding at an alarming rate. Think Audrey II and human blood in Little Shop of Horrors or Natalie Portman and mental illness in Black Swan.
I’m trying to approach 2011 like a recovering alcoholic, taking my calendar one day at a time, or when necessary, one quarter hour at a time. But mostly, not even 72 whole hours into the year, I’m doing an awful lot of daydreaming. About vacations. About holidays. About having a job one day that means I get to take off on federal holidays. About having a job that means I get to take off on school holidays. About having my 2-year-old actually going to school. About living in one of those countries where moms get paid for up to two years to just sit home with their children after they’re born. About having days on my calendar with actual white space instead of days that require me to click to expand to see everything that’s in it.
Maybe next year. Is it 2012 yet?
Does your calendar for 2011 have you dreaming about 2012 already?