Here is a short list of the shit (for lack of a better term) I've gotten done the last week or so, mostly the last two days: Finalized renter's insurance, negotiated a payment plan with the IRS, gotten my annual skin check, two fillings refilled, checked in with my OB/gyn to schedule a minor but uncomfortable procedure for June, filed for power of attorney to take care of my dad's business when we move him to the Bay Area, dealt with the painter who installed a new bathroom cabinet and got an estimate for painting the dining room, met the housecleaners (luxury problem, I know--but it's a once every few months kind of thing), found an assisted living place for my father, ordered groceries online from Safeway, waited for delivery guy, booked flights for four to and from Vegas, booked a hotel, arranged house and petsitting, and on and on and on. All of this while working full time, commuting more than 2 hours a day, and spending as much time with my daughter and husband as possible. I feel like I've leapt out of an issue of Oprah magazine--a feature called "How Real Women Deal with Everyday Stress." Or something like that. The scary thing: I'm okay. I think.
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