Tuesday, May 31, 2005
All Full Up
I think I might have some sort of bizarre disorder (shut up, not that one) and I get overwhelmed from time to time.
I can't stand a mix of sweet and savoury (fruit and meat? Gah! Get it away from me!) and we won't even talk about fruit in a lettuce or spinach-based salad. I can't even stand milk in coffee although I can have a glass of milk and a cup of coffee separately.
This might be why I have never (apart from once when I put a *gasp* stripe in a hat) mixed colo(u)rs in anything I have knit, and I seldom wear patterns.
If three people are talking to me at once (which is funny because I had my own transcription business for years and years, and I can pick one voice out of a group of ten and transcribe the entire conversation, more times than not), I just get mental and shut down until they stop and talk one at a time. (Yes, that's very useful when taking care of children. Sure. I should start a daycare in my home right quick.)
When I get overwhelmed by anything like that I always use the term "all full up" and I ask people to back off until I can breathe again.
When there is too much noise, too many flavours, too much emotion, I get full up, and this has been a "full up" week indeed, and we're only on Tuesday.
My kidlet had her first visit to kindergarten yesterday. I was brave, there was no screaming, and I very much liked her teacher (who several times mentioned how "sophisticated" her art was for someone her age. The sprog, not the teacher's. I don't know if the teacher can draw at all.)
And then of course there was the advent of The Holy Grail ... um, Drum Carder.
Today was Eleanor's last day at daycare, and they had a party. I was all brave, and then I looked at her empty cubby and burst into tears. Quiet tears, so that all of the little kids didn't think something catastrophic was happening because a Mommy was crying but tears nonetheless.
Her daddy then took her out to pick flowers and hang out somewhere with noise and kids and such (he fortunately doesn't share whatever this disorder may be) while I returned to my office to clear out my desk and get all of my paperwork in order (read: did half of it and shredded the rest).
Then I put the keys in the top drawer of what was my desk for five and a half years, turned out the lights and walked out, all alone, letting the door lock behind me.
And now I'm sitting here, in the middle of the night, surrounded by the trappings of this fiber addiction, listening to the blessed silence and feeling so desperately full up. And maybe a little weepy.
And pretty damned fine, too, knowing that when I get up in the morning, a) it will be about 10am (my kid is a good sleeper) and b) I will never have to go back to that office again.
Thank dog.
Time to start the next chapter.
# posted by Rabbitch @ 11:59 PM 
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Hooray for you. I understand "full up" completely. When I go to parties I so desperately want to turn off the music so that I can have conversations with people, because music and talking don't mix well for me. My brain just can process it all. It's all I can do to supress the urge too slink off into a corner and start rocking with my arms around my knees.
I understand completely. I may even have the "Full Up" affliction to a deeper level. When I have been out with a group of people, or have visitors in my home, I need significant down time to recover. Doesn't matter who it is, or how much I like them, I can only take small doses at a time and then have to retreat into "aloneness". My many (solitary) hobbies are my sanity saver.
I am sure that this new chapter is going to be wonderful and perhaps not as "full up". Congrats, toots.
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