Tragedy befell me this morning, and I may never recover. If I do? I’ll never be the same again. Oh, the horror, the heartbreak, the over-dramatization. Fine, it wasn’t that bad. In the grand scheme of my mortal existence, it was a minor inconvenience at best.

However, in the wee hours of yet another stormy day? I just about fell to my knees in despair. Why me? I screamed inside of my head. Even in that state of mind, I knew I was being ridiculous. If my neighbours knew what they lived next to? The mortification is too much to bear so, I silenced the voice.

Snap out of it, woman! It’s not the end of the world. But it feels like it is. Whimper, pouty lip, and sigh.

I flopped onto my couch empty-handed and silently grieved my loss. I braced myself for a day of misery because I had been denied the one thing that gives me joy first thing in the morning. The one comforting act that helps me face the day to come. The one…I feel another weary sigh coming over me, and I can’t deny that as well.

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There are two things I need to function as a human that closely, yet reluctantly, resembles an adult: Routine and a cup of tea first thing in the morning. I also need animal cuddles, a warm blanket, and a fire crackling away in the fireplace. But first! Tea and the routine that accompanies it.

I wake up, lay in bed and wonder why I should get up at all. Of course, I come up with a dozen reasons why I should sleep the day away, but thank God for bladders. If they couldn’t rupture, I might’ve given in to the comfy, snuggly mattress. Fine, you win bladder, I’m getting up.

Groan. Curse. Moan. Mutter.

Once that pesky organ was satiated, I stumbled to the kitchen and cuddled my animals as I went. Hello kitten, sleep well? Oo, big stretch puppy. Let me put the kettle on, and then we can have a snuggle. 

Yep, that’s how it goes every morning, and I find a great deal of comfort in it. It’s simple, easy, and it makes me smile just a little bit. Is there a better way to start a day? A little comfort, a smile, and a brief moment of happiness before life gets messy.

I just need that one moment. Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently, it is because this morning, I got to the kitchen, and followed my well practiced tea making routine. I went to the fridge to grab the milk, but it wasn’t there. What? Where’d it go? It was here yesterday. Why are there dirty dishes in my fridge? Oh no. Oh dear, tell me I didn’t do a silly, silly thing.

Spoiler alert: I did a silly thing.

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I’ve never had a great attention to detail, but this is ridiculous. It’s even worse than the time it took me nearly a week to realize the home I was visiting had been rearranged. I went out one morning, came back in the afternoon, and everything had been moved around. Did I notice that the furniture I’d been sitting on was gone? No, no, I did not. Five days, that’s how long it took me to say, “Hey, this wasn’t here before.”

I won’t tell you how long it took me to notice my parents had painted their home. Did the drastic colour change or the smell of wet paint clue me in? Did I put the pieces together? Eventually, but it took an embarrassingly long time. 

I’d be a horrible detective. Absolutely rubbish. I’d overlook the killer’s handwritten confession and chase no-see-ems with enthusiasm. Slow down and pay attention to the details? Ha, no, that’s never been my best quality.

But this? This is a new low. How do you mix up the fridge and the dishwasher? Why did I put the milk in the dishwasher and the dishes in the fridge? The only saving grace here is that I didn’t wash the milk. I just let it go off, get clumpy, and now there’s no tea for me.

Go on, have a chuckle. Shake your head and judge me in the comments. It’s fine. I deserve it. Roll your eyes and call me “extra” if you must. I can take it, sort of. Am I’m squeezing my eyes shut and flinching? Sure, but ignore the grimace.

My brain is feeling a little broken at the moment.

What’s the worst thing you’ve misplaced, and where did you find it? Keys in the freezer. Bra in the toilet. I’m not saying either of those things have ever happened to me, but people talk. So, what’s it for you? When was the last time you asked, What was I thinking?

It’s a curious phenomenon. It’s like my brain glitched, or my hard drive froze. I had to press the power button for ten seconds until it shut down and rebooted. Now, the software is out of date, and I need to run an update before everything can work properly. Damn, the internet is slow. It says it will take my brain approximately nineteen hours, twenty-three minutes and thirty-seven seconds to do what it needs to do.

And I don’t have tea to help me get through it all. Thus, we circle back to my original statement. A tragedy has befallen me! Woe is me I’ve come undone. What will I do now? I’ve given it considerable thought, and there’s nothing else for it. I must give up, go back to bed, and spend this day watching silly things on the streaming places.

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Or I could go to the store, buy some milk, come home and rectify this terrible self-inflicted injustice. That would be the most sensible thing to do. You could even say it was the most logical solution. A reasonable approach? Yes, that too if you’re into such things.

But writing off the day as a total loss is tempting, even if I’m being silly. My routine was ousted, I didn’t get a cup of tea, and my brain requires an upgrade. It’s hardly the end of life as I’ve come to know it. I really should snap out of it and drink a glass of water instead.

Am I going to do it? Uh…

As I sit here typing these words, a little voice in the back of my head is chanting, “Oh no, my brain, it’s broken.” Have I spent too much time on Tik Tok? Absolutely! But there’s a ring of truth running circles around my sanity. My brain is feeling a little broken at the moment.

A lot is going on, and most of it is emotional. Health struggles of loved ones, environmental disasters brewing in my backyard, and an overall sense of being stuck in my life. I don’t know where to begin processing everything that’s going on. I’m overwhelmed, and it’s starting to trickle into other aspects of my life. I’m making silly mistakes, forgetting simple things, and my focus is way off.

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Even writing these words has been a difficult task. It’s taken me a couple of days to get this far because I’m so easily distracted. I still haven’t gotten milk so, no tea. Oo shiny! Ah, a sweet little daydream. Let’s throw the day away and watch silly things on streaming places.

Small things become monstrous, and big things don’t even compute. It’s like my brain has gone on strike, and it refuses to work until its demands are met. Unfortunately, it can’t articulate its needs so, we’re deadlocked. The picket line won’t be crossed, and thus, work won’t get done.

I don’t think I’m the only one feeling overcome with a sense of mental fatigue. Our lives may be taking separate paths, and we’re struggling to carry different baggage, but we’ve met up at a few junctions. Some problems and contributing factors are universal. We’re all stressed, tired, overwhelmed and perhaps I’m not the only one feeling a burning sense of desperation.

Life has been a lot for all of us, and I don’t know about you, but I need a vacation from it. How does that work? I’m not talking about a few days to sleep in or sip fancy drinks from a fruit-shaped cup. It’s a break from being a person and everything that comes with it.

Calling it an out-of-body experience would be a bit dramatic wouldn’t it? Yeah, it’s not that extreme, but a break would be nice. Imagine opening a door, and once you cross the threshold, you leave the heavy emotions, complications, a drama behind. 

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It’s the stereotypical image of the perfect moment. A gentle breeze, blue skies, and clouds lazily passing overhead. A field of wildflowers waving invitingly. After a run through the flowers, arms outstretched so the petals tickle the palms of your hands, flop down on a blanket and enjoy a picnic. Pour some tea out of a thermos and milk that hasn’t gone off. Close your eyes, hands clutching the steaming cup, and exhale slowly.

Reality has been locked behind that door in the distance, and here, in this magic garden, time has no meaning. Whenever we’re ready, life, as we left it, is waiting for us to walk back in and resume the madness. There’s no rush. We can take a breath, a beat, and recharge.

Oh, if only I could do that, then maybe I wouldn’t make such silly mistakes. It happened because there’re too many thoughts vying for limited space. I’m overwhelmed, tired, and out of focus. A minute, I just need a minute behind that magical door, and then everything will be okay.

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