I would have finished everything on my tasklist...

This week has been running at a crazy pace.

Work is super busy. I love my job, I love working from home, and I love the people I work with. I work with a team of bright, driven professionals, and it makes such a HUGE difference when you’re not surrounded by idiots.

Trust me, I know.

I also took on some extra freelance work recently, which totally ate up my weekend, but brought in some extra cash. Yay, cash.

However, this morning, when my kid accidentally spilled Cheerios all over my bedroom floor, I realized my brain was already automatically quantifying how important it actually was to me to not have Cheerios on the floor.

What my brain came up with was “not so much”.

Yesterday, while under deadline, the electricity in my neighborhood mysteriously went out. Middle of the day. Perfect weather. No reason, other than the fact that I was under deadline, of course. So I had to shower, pack up all my stuff, and head over to the library (because it's almost impossible to get a seat with an outlet at Panera Bread) where there is free wireless. There is also a lot of free seating. I was surrounded by homeless people with gas. I don't know what the point of the added gas was, again, other than the fact that the universe truly was enjoying itself while fucking with me yesterday.

Since I had no electricity at home, I took advantage of my county tax dollars at work and brought all my electrical appliances with me that needed charging. Not, like, a large blender or anything, just two cell phones and an iPod. My laptop looked like a one-man band with all the attachments hanging off of it, but since I was the only one at the library yesterday who bothered to shower, my electrical usage and outward appearance thereof really was the least of my worries.

At some point today, I'm going to attack several large piles of laundry and the collection of dirty dishes in my sink. Not because I want to. Just because we've hit the wall on clean underwear and forks.

Tune in tomorrow, when I'll be back at the library, drinking out of a paper bag with my new crew.

Everyone has a breaking point.