Forget The Joneses'--I Can't Even Keep Up With My Own Life

Have you ever had a day where you just can’t keep up?

Or maybe … say, weeks?

I've come to the conclusion that I can’t keep up with my life anymore.

And it’s not even that great of a life. It’s a status-quo life, really. Nothing too spectacular. And yet, it’s getting harder and harder for me to keep up with it.
I can’t keep up with the laundry, the cleaning (strangely enough it seems to get worse on the weekends when I’m home…hmmm…) my friend’s lives, their kids lives, not to mention any semblance of a dating life.

Monday through Friday, I’m lucky if I can make it in the shower on time to race to the metro to take me downtown so that I can keep up with the hundreds of emails that I know are waiting for me when I get in the office. Not to mention my overbooked schedule to meet with my overbooked colleagues in an overbooked conference room that I forgot to reserve the week before.

My day ends as I run to the metro (apparently I can’t keep up with the correct metro schedule) to race home, wake up the dog who sleeps all day, walk her, and then attempt to walk myself around a track three times so that I can keep up with my goal of losing weight (not to mention keep up with my running group who make it look a hell of a lost easier than it looks…).

I then come home, make dinner and realize I forgot to keep up with the expiration dates of most of the food I bought last week. By the time I plop myself down on my couch turn on the TV and watch the national news, I’ve come to the realization I can’t keep up with the world either. I don’t know if it depresses me, or if I just feel overwhelmingly helpless when I see headlines about the oil spill in the gulf, the stock market plummeting (again) and record unemployment statistics.

I can’t even keep up with how many times Lindsay Lohan has gone to court this week. Now I know I’m in trouble… Have I shut myself off from society completely??

I now have stacks of my favorite magazines waiting for me to read them. They are now layered in dust. Apparently, I can’t keep up with my subscriptions that guarantee to help me:

“Shed 9lbs”

“Stress Less and Enjoy Life More!”

“Have it Your Way in Bed!”


My car needs oil, my bills need to get paid, my laundry needs to get washed, my gray hairs need to get dyed and here I sit—because my blog needs to get written—a promise made to myself that apparently, I have not been keeping up with.

I even forgot to buy wet dog food for the pup who hasn’t touched her dry dog food in over 24 hours now. She goes to her bowl—paws at it—and looks at me like, “You expect me to eat this?” I then overcompensate by giving her the last piece of cheese that I was going to use to make my grill cheese.

Hey, at least she won’t starve (I will—but the dog won’t).

I recently got a voice mail from one of my good friends that simply said, “I know I haven’t called in weeks—don’t be mad, I just can’t keep up with anything anymore.”

Boy, do I know the feeling.