Moxie

As my little toddler would say (with two hands in the air), "Where it go?" My mojo, my moxie, my Meredithness. I'm not feeling like myself, which is fairly unusual. As a rule, I spring to action when the going gets tough, when the pressure is on. But right now, all I'm doing is very slowly sipping my sugar-free latte and contemplating my ridiculously over-the-limit inbox with something close to 120 unread messages, and not opening any of them. Instead I'm writing a blog post instead like a real overachiever.

My resume touts me as a brilliant multi-tasker, but current reality tells a different tale. I forgot to kick-off an office campaign for a charity I care very much about (not sure how to turn that one around, but it's probably going to involve another self-effacing mass e-mail), I was an especially lackluster facilitator at an important meeting yesterday, and thinking of the state of my current assignments reminds me of those war strategy computer games my husband sometimes plays (the ones with world map littered with small burning flames denoting military clashes). Not knowing where to start, I would prefer to stick my head between my knees and crawl under my desk, though probably in reverse order.

I'm behind on the laundry, I'm behind on the vaccumming, I'm behind on the dusting, and I'm embarrased to tell you the last time my family had a home-cooked meal (and that, I recall, was a rotisserie chicken and sides from Fresh Market).

Did I mention I'm hosting a big party on Saturday?

Oh, I know it will get better, and that it's not even near bad. It's just a tad overwhelming at times. By tomorrow I'll get my little ducks in a row. But for now I just felt like complaining to you, because I get the distinct feeling that my family (husband) is getting pretty sick of hearing it. So thanks for listening!