This time of year is always stressful for me. The last quarter is when I work on my long-time client's watch magazine. As a one-man team (almost), this means a lot of legwork, coordination, editing, photo selections, proofreading, corrections--and whatever else goes into the making of a magazine.
Then of course, I still have my other clients. Thank God for Stef, who has provided such invaluable help this year. She has taken over most of my PR accounts, and that is a huge load off me. But I still do need to do a lot of work.
This year, I feel doubly overwhelmed. This is the first time I'll be going into my Last Quarter Crunch with The Hubby.
In the past years, I just camp out in my comfy computer chair, right in front of my desktop. The seester and the cousins just tiptoe around me when I fall asleep. Our helper cooks the meals, sweeps around me (she used to be quick with the broom when I finally stand up for a bathroom break) and generally does all the household chores.
Now, I do the magazine work and the house things. Not that I'm complaining. And The Hubby is helping out as much as he can. He actually cooks more often now, and I'm grateful for that. But these days, I sometimes want to throw my hands up and cry. Or refuse to get out of bed.
Overwhelmed is an understatement. I hate to admit it, but these days I'm a lousy housewife. My meals have been uninspired. Though The Hubby likes the throw-in-the-pot dishes like sinigang and nilaga, I can't keep serving him that every week! I cook in big batches now, so that we will always have leftovers, good enough for maybe two more meals. I don't think The Hubby has ever eaten so many peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast! I'm still trying to convince him that peanut butter sandwiches make good lunches and dinners as well.
And the dishes! I had just finished washing the pots and plates, and forty minutes later, they're back in the sink (which just goes to show that I wash dishes only right before the next meal--otherwise I'd have nothing to cook in). Our bed hasn't been made in days. Piles and piles of my magazine clutter are everywhere.
And to think we don't have kids yet! How did our mothers ever do it all?
If I were more efficient, I guess, all these would be a snap. But I'm not. The Hubby thinks I'm a lazy bum. I know I am a lazy bum. And that's the thing. I need help. I am drowning.