The A La Carte

(Honestly, at this point a hospital stay sounds like a spa retreat)

You know that moment where you’re already at capacity: like phone-storage-at-99%-with-37-tabs-open capacity, and then life taps you on the shoulder and says, “Hey bestie, quick thing…”

Yeah. That’s been my entire week.

Currently, I’m running what can only be described as an unlicensed pet sanctuary with:

• 3 dogs
• 2 cats
• 6 chickens
• 2 houses
• 1 recovering boyfriend
• 3 kids
• And roughly 14,000 things that needed to be done yesterday

All happening while I’m trying to move out of my current place by the end of the month.

Which… fun fact… is THIS WEEK.
Surprise!

I keep thinking: if I disappear into urgent care for “exhaustion,” will they let me nap? Like… uninterrupted? Will someone bring me Jell-O? Honestly, the bar is so low the idea of a hospital bed sounds like a four-star resort.

And just when I thought I was balanced on the very last thread of sanity, my mom walked in and told me my cousin unexpectedly passed away.

Life didn’t even toss that at me. It just straight-up dropped it from the sky like a piano in a cartoon.
ACME brand devastation.

My body did that whole shaky, shallow-breathing thing. You know, the reaction you get when you’re already overwhelmed and someone says, “One more thing,” except the “one more thing” is grief.

But here’s the wild part: all the stuff I’m juggling?
None of it pauses.

The dogs still need to go out.
The chickens are still over there living their best farm life.
Kids still need care.
Clients still need deliverables.
And the move? Oh, the move is just standing in the corner like, “Hi babe 🙂 miss u.”

Meanwhile grief is like, “Hey, I’m staying too. Hope you have room.”
(Hint: I do not.)

We don’t talk enough about this level of chaos. The moment after you’ve officially hit your limit but the universe says, “Nah, you can break a little more.”

It’s laughable, honestly. I’m past crying. I’m in the era of unhinged giggles and muttering “of course this is happening” like a background character in my own sitcom.

Yet for some reason, I’m still upright (barely). Still feeding animals. Still doing the work.
Still taping boxes.
Still wiping tiny fingerprints off surfaces.
Still breathing, kinda.

Not gracefully. Not inspirational-Pinterest-board gracefully.
Just… stubbornly.

So here’s my takeaway from this week:

Apparently, someone can be pushed to the breaking point… then pushed further… then shoved off a cliff… and still won’t take a damn nap unless someone makes them fill out insurance paperwork first.

P.S. Yeah I guess I need to pick out insurance too

Honestly?
Someone check me into a hospital. I need a vacation.