Sometimes it’s a relief to go to work.

When I’m at home, I spend part of my time reading, watching TV and otherwise relaxing.  But I’m also thinking about what I want to say at my mother’s memorial service (and how I should REALLY start writing that down).  And I’m also missing the cat on so many levels — hearing him purring or snoring, feeling him brush against my ankles as he comes running over to see what part of our dinner we’re going to share with him.

Sometimes I get to work and I have a day like Saturday, where the moment I walked in I was confronted with an emergency — we’d had a HUGE flood in the library overnight, and there were so many things that needed to get done.  So my whole day was spent covering public service desks, setting up for programs, observing and photographing one program, and dealing with post-flood stuff.

I was so busy at work that it drove all other thoughts out of my head.  Then, of course, I got home and thought …


My days are spent strangely now.  I have a schedule that stretches ahead of me, made up of a timeline of tiny anchors.  Everything is written in the calendar I carry around with me in my purse, so I can see the next task I have to achieve. Teen program.  Visiting my brother.  Class visits.  Career Day presentation.  Teen program.  Book review deadlines.  YA book discussion group.  Memorial service.  Teen program.  Committee meeting.

It’s the free days that are the hardest, or in the case of today, a free morning before I work the late shift.  I have so many OTHER things I need to be doing that I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around it all, and I’m feeling the weight of these tasks hanging over my head.  I need to start looking for a new apartment.  I need to start contacting banks with my mother’s death certificate and asking about whether or not she’d set up beneficiaries for each account.  I need to do laundry.  I need to write my speech for the memorial service.  I need to plan our summer vacation this year.  I need to figure out what I’m going to do with all of my mother’s things, which is going to involve charities, consignment shops, and more.

It’s all stretching out ahead of me, and I know that each task will be completed days or weeks or months from now.  I’ve been making lists of what I need to do, but then after I make them I’m afraid to look at them.  I know I’ll get everything done, but for now it’s all kind of overwhelming.