I think everyone has wished at times that they could be in two places at once, and there have been times when I almost pulled it off. But there are also times when I know I can only be in one place and I worry over whether to be here or there.
Never have I wanted to be in two or three places at once as much as I did this past week and weekend. I felt pulled in several directions, kind of like the old Stretch Armstrong toy. My brother had one of those, and it was cool in a creepy sort of way. Maybe if I was filled with that gooey stuff I could have accomplished being in more than one place. Who knows?
I am staying home to help my husband get back on his feet after he busted himself up and underwent surgery. If not for a load of other things on my mind, it may well have been the calmest time in my life since I started working at the Daily Globe five years ago. Its not like we can hurry through anything, and a slow, low stress pace is something I haven’t experienced for awhile.
But having to let some people down in order to fulfill another person’s needs is hard. The worry in the back of my mind has been a burden.
A good friend buried her husband Thursday, and I really wanted to be there for her. I was pulled in two directions. This friend has been there for me in some of the toughest times of my life, but in the end, I knew I was needed at home more than I was needed by her side. Still, it hurt to have to make that decision.
Then there’s the worry of knowing I’m leaving my co-workers short-handed at a busy time. The weeks and days leading up to King Turkey Day are chaotic and busy, so I feel bad. It makes me laugh at myself, because I remember several times being one of three people who ran the newsroom for days at a time, so they should be fine with five people. Still, there’s that little niggling feeling of guilt bouncing around in my head for the past week.
It can be hard to prioritize all the things that need doing, and guilty feelings are hard to reason with. They don’t always listen. Its kind of like trying to reason with a cranky 2-year-old.
Sometimes its tough to be a grownup.