Just stopping by to make you feel better about yourself

Can I blame the Blogger redesign for my absence? No, but it hasn't helped when I can't find the "new post" button. Can't we all just agree not to update anything for a few weeks? Ergh. I'm digressing already and I haven't begun.

When you have too many balls in the air, you have to decide which one to calmly set down and then keep going. (Because if you know me, you know I can juggle — literally! I can! — but only three balls at a time). And this blog, plus reading all other blogs, has to be the one ball I leave behind when things get busy. Because a) it doesn't make any money and b) it doesn't contribute to keeping my kid busy in any way. It's a time suck. A very enjoyable time suck. And one that I have missed.

I've been averaging 6,000-8,000 words of paid writing work each week, which means waking up at 5 a.m. to write before my kid wakes, writing while she's at nursery school, writing after she goes to bed at night, thinking about all the writing I have to do while I am doing anything else...in short, I have few brain cells left to rub together after a day of writing and taking care of a badass almost-four-year-old. Also, my husband is in school right now, so my income is sorely needed while he shifts focus to this career change, so I can't say no to anything that pays (well, SOME things, yes. Don't get any ideas. I am a lady.)

Also, the spring is a very rough time for me in NYC. I never experienced allergies until I moved here five years ago, but now for eight weeks between mid-March to mid-May I feel utterly awful. Imagine the worst cold you've had, and then imagine having it for two months. That's allergies. It's hard not to get very depressed when you know you're staring down another six weeks of feeling ill. In the middle of allergy season, I find myself going to bed at the same time my daughter does, because what would be the point of staying up any later? I feel too terrible to even want to be conscious. I can't imagine how hard it is for people who suffer from a chronic illness to be happy.

And if you know me well, you know that every Spring in the middle of allergy season, I get a cold sore under my nose from the rigors of blowing, wiping, sneezing, etc. Yes, under my nose. It looks like a crusty red Hitler mustache. And this year, I had two — one right after another. So even though I have sewn some lovely garments this Spring, there's no way anyone is taking a picture of me in them. Because: crusty, red Hitler mustache.

Right now, as I compose this blog post, I'm thinking about the writing I should be doing before my family awakes. Also, trying to think of how to entertain my kid today because my husband will be working. Time to sew? Forget about it. And now I'm thinking of how this is just one long complaint. Nobody likes listening to a kvetcher. Except when it makes you feel better about your life. If that's the case, this is practically a public service I am providing here. Go forth and enjoy your work-free, kid-free (or two-parent-with-kid) day without allergies, with an upper lip you don't have to hide behind a sandwich. Or kvetch at me: if your Spring has been shitty too, why?

No WHERE IS THE FRIGGING "POST" BUTTON? (I hate change).