Hi all. I am whooped today. And pooped. And those two words look like they should rhyme, yet they don’t.

Today I am feeling utterly overwhelmed. My mom is in the hospital — and she’s totally fine, thanks to amazing medical science and fantastic doctors. But that is what the last two and a half days have been about. That and the election. And my daughter’s big concert last night.

That’s how this went:

And I had to finish my DIY faux-granite kitchen countertops that I started over the weekend so we could actually use the damn things before we had a houseful of kids.

And my job is supposed to be in there somewhere, but I’ve barely worked for two days. I also haven’t exercised, meditated, journaled, or done any other damn thing that is supposed to allow me to embody the mentally, physically, and spiritually sound Trish who is ready to conquer the world with hilarious-yet-inspirational-and-challenging truth bombs.

I’ve done a fairly decent job of sticking to Weight Watchers, though. Yay for me … I think. Today is weigh-in.

And today there is much to do. I woke up CRAN-KEE. And I’m so overwhelmed by my to-do list that it feels like the only reasonable thing to do is take a nap. But there’s no time right now.

Plus, there’s the stuff that’s going on as in, things on the calendar, and then there are the layers of other stuff that are all happening simultaneously.

Jeff Sessions? I can’t even.

I have an important friendship that is teetering on a tightrope at this very second (fucking politics!) and I have to figure out how to handle it. And there are weird and ongoing family dynamics all tied up in all this hospital stuff and that shit is getting old and tired and making me feel old and tired.

Did I mention that a nap would be awesome?

So this morning I turned off my phone for an hour. I exercised. I meditated. I showered. And now I am eating chicken noodle soup at 11:19 AM and typing this to you, but really for me, because this is my blog and I can say whatever I want here.

Here is the question of the moment: So Trish, what can we do to feel better?

Well, writing always makes me feel better, so yay me for taking a few minutes to do this. Corporate America: I will be with you in a few minutes. Please wait quietly until your number is called.

It is one of my very best friend’s birthdays today and that is awesome because she makes my life better and I want to cry when I think about much she means to me. Happy birthday, Nicole! So thankful for you! Should I eat pie in honor of you after weigh-in? I know you’ll be nice and say yes, but don’t enable me. Give me the kick in the ass that I need.

And my soup is good, so that’s nice.

And I like that when I was meditating there was one crow and then a whole bunch of them outside my window being so damn noisy … and then I as a started to chill, they got quiet and stayed that way. Did I do that with my mind? Did they feel my zen through the walls of the house and decide to move on? Something to ponder. Or, for all know, they were out there meditating, too. Maybe they’re still there …

And I like that my kitchen counters look nice. I actually did them when we moved in, but there were a few areas I’ve been wanting to touch up since then.

Dudes, that is paint. Over formica. And I possess pretty close to zero artistic talent. This shit is amazing. (This shit=The Giani Countertop Paint Kit.)

And I also like that I invested some time on Monday night and wrote a long blog post about something that matters to me, and all I have to do is post it now. I didn’t post it then because who could possibly care about anything except the election then?

And although I’m worried about the Mueller investigation getting cut off at the knees, I’m likety-like-liking that the House flipped to blue. Let’s get some freaking checks and balances up in this country, already.

I think that’s all for now. If you need me, I’ll be here … and at the hospital and at Weight Watchers … but mostly here, until the wee hours. Many more steps to travel until I sleep. Thanks for reading.

I just realized the title of this post no longer fits. So be it.