(All right, I know I have people outside the U.S. who follow this blog. Bear with me for the moment. The Superbowl is the final game of the American football (not soccer) season, between the two top teams in the two conferences.)
And I don’t even care about football. (Or soccer, either.) I wasn’t going to bother watching this game, not even for the commercials. (Which are always notoriously expensive and creative, and are only shown this one time.) And I didn’t watch the first half; it’s all my husband’s fault, really. Because I couldn’t help hearing the commentary while he watched, and the first half was a real back-and-forth dogfight. So after we ate, I sat down to watch a few minutes of the second half.
If you were watching too, you understand why I never escaped, never even stood up, until the game was over. If the first half was unpredictable, the second half was a thrill show of contested calls (Did he have both feet on the ground within bounds?? Well, yeah.) and unexpected turnovers and heartstopping drives, right down to the last five seconds when the entire game turned on a gap of inches between ball and reaching hands.
I don’t care about football. But everybody likes suspense and drama. Wow.
I haven’t been doing very well at keeping my life in balance over the past several weeks. That sculpture in the photo, the one that looks like a pile of chairs almost ready to topple? That’s how I feel.
True, I tend to leap feet first into many more projects than anybody has time to manage. And true, it’s been a stressful month, realizing that my mother needs a lot more help than she used to but really, really hates accepting help, and trying to find ways to help her that she’ll put up with. And true, I’ve been writing a lot more over the past month, not just blogging – though it’s been a bloggily productive month – but, more important, noveling. And I’ve been ensnarled in several quasijobs that I’ve promised to other people.
But I really need to find time to put the laundry away and get back to throwing things out!
Ah well. Just at the moment, I feel like I’m dropping balls, tripping over them, and winding up in unintended cartwheels. Luckily, I’m skilled and experienced at lurching away from disaster. And I never even aspired to ballerina-like grace, at least not after flunking out of dance class at the age of three. (Really.)
I would like to find a way to continue giving all the projects and duties little dabs of effort, though, enough so that they stay airborne, or at least enough so they haven’t rolled out of sight before I can collect them and toss them up into the juggling circle once more.