Dani's Dirt

I feel like my posts as of late all have the same subliminal messages. Danielle is busy. Danielle is tired. Danielle is working four jobs. Sorry, y’all. I promise the end of this madness is near. No one will be happier than me… except maybe My Someone — not only is he most days the only human I see or interact with (work at home probs.) — he gets the brunt of my stress load.

While I think it’s safe to say, most of the time, everyone is busy, I think we’ve all been at points where the busy load pushes us to questionable psych levels. So, while I should’ve been sleeping, my mind came up with a list of overworked signs I think others could relate too. I believe the only way to get through the hard times is to find something to laugh about.

So I give you:

Signs you’ve hit your tired, overworked breaking point

• Those close to you are beginning to question your sanity. 

• You look to an edible source for comfort.

In my case, that bag of mini Reese’s cups I originally bought for my husband.

Reese’s cups understand…
Reese’s cups think my work is good enough…
Reese’s cups whisper, “Hey girl, I know you’re tired, here have another one of us”…
Reese’s cups are my friend…

Oops, now there is chocolate on my keyboard.

• Wanting to cry, but not having enough energy to actually cry.

• Unanswered text messages. Friends have text you all the happenings in their life, you opened it, fully intended to respond, got a work related call and now it’s two weeks later — you still haven’t responded and every attempt to fix that is once again interrupted by something work related. Resulting in several half finished texts.

• As a result of being exceptionally, tired you have a strong urge to throat punch every individual who asks when you plan on having children, and/or criticizes you for A.) voicing your decision you plan to wait or B.) voicing that life is currently too crazy to contemplate procreation.

“If you think you’re busy now wait till you have kids, you’ll realize how easy you have it currently.” Blah, blah, blah please stop talking before I forget I am a lady.

• Having conversations, but not remembering you’ve actually already had that conversation.

“Wait, you mean I already asked you what day the chickens are coming in? …three times? Just this evening? Oh… Well, tell me one more time.”

• You may be overworked and tired, and it’s perfectly understandable to have a messy house BUT your OCD and perfectionist qualities are on your shoulder constantly nagging you over the state of your hacienda. The worrying of this decreases work efficiency and you find yourself considering actually hiring a maid, just so you can finally have a settled mind and pump out some work.
But, who’s kidding who here, with your personality you would clean your home before the maid showed up. Which slightly defeats the purpose… And so continues the vicious dirty home cycle.

*breathes into brown paper sack*

• You find yourself getting all kinds of excited about the prospect of service peoples appointment at your home the following day, because that means your home — which has been horribly neglected because work takes all your waking hours — moves to death con 1. It’s amazing how much intense cleaning can be accomplished in a few short hours.

Maybe I can hire that maid now…

• Your mood has taken on a roller coaster of anxiety, monotone and spastic anger, making your significant other feel like they’re hunkered in a bunker on the front lines.

My Someone’s white flag is doing the dishes. Lately, he’s done a lot of dishes.

• Your brain has reached a point where making decisions is not in your favor. Like when you’re trying to write a story from your laptop, in the oil change place, and they hit you with something like ‘Hey, your license plate light is out. We can change that for you for like 10 times the price of what you can buy the damn lightbulb from Autozone for.’ (Something along those lines.) …and you’re like sure, and then you face a not-so-happy husband about your financial decision when you get home.  • …and while we’re on decision making. Citizens! For the love of some-guy-named-Pete, whatever you do, DO NOT ask a person who is hitting their tired breaking point what they want to eat. Unless you’re ready to be hit with the roller coaster of emotions I described earlier.

The #DaniSquared showdown of Sunday night’s, “Culvers or Penn Station? Just pick one!” Resulted in an uber dramatic monologue on my part. Seriously, how am I supposed to decide between those two? ESPECIALLY when I’m this tired. *insert waterworks*

• You’ve spent so much time absorbed into work that your physical appearance has fallen low on the list of priorities. To the point when your husband says, ‘you look pretty,’ it comes out more like “Umm, you look… pretty?”

I’ve reached the point I do not respond to SnapChats with my face. Don’t want to scare the children. 

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that light is looking more like strands of multicolored loveliness accompanied with jingle bells, mail that isn’t bills and holiday cheer. Yes, my life should resume some normalcy by Christmas. Till then I’m holding on tight to what is left of my sanity. If you’re going through the same thing currently, God speed and good luck!

Until next time!

Editors note: As a result of trying to work while writing this and lack of good quality sleep this post is riddled with many-o-typo. I’m fixing them as I catch them.
Don’t judge, just love.