On Cloning Myself

Have you ever had one of those days where you realize you're drowning? Maybe not physically, but metaphorically?

I have.

In fact, I've had several, and many of them were this week.

Granted, it's only Tuesday, but there are twenty-four usable hours in every day, and my weeks tend to blend together. The calendar might say Tuesday, but I'm pretty sure it's really Thursday... of next week.

 I'm one of those people who need to constantly be engaged. No, not to a man-- I'm pretty sure my husband would disapprove of that hobby, but mentally. I rarely watch  television or movies because they can't hold my attention for very long, but books I can sit for hours engrossed in.

Why? Because they're engaging. I'm thinking, I'm feeling, I'm actively involved.

This is also true of my 'real' life. My husband has pointed it out--as have others who know me well-- that I tend to overextend myself. I'm not truly happy unless my proverbial plate is so full I can't see around it, and it's threatening to topple over.

How right they are.

Most of the time, this mode of living works well for me. I thrive under the ever changing responsibilities. I grin at the pace, and sleep well at night.

Not always though.

Sometimes, like this last week, the pressure gets to be too much, my heart starts to pound, my head starts to hurt, and I'm afraid the black demon locked inside me is going to escape.

It's a scary thing.

I laden myself down with new and exciting responsibilities; writing a short story, editing and polishing two novels--one YA, one contemporary, a new dog, a summer writing program, shameless self-promotion (that I truly, truly, hate), a training program that requires 90 minutes of working out a day--every day-- numerous blogs, writing groups, and Writers Organizations (RWA, YARWA, SinC, etc) that in order to be useful and worth the yearly dues, need to be used and participated on... the list seems endless, and getting longer.

Days like today, when I feel like I'm drowning, and there is no visible way out of the deep end... I wish I had a clone.

Just not an exact clone.

One who has more patience than I do, is less easily frustrated, and more understanding of her own limitations.

Or maybe I need to learn moderation.

When do you wish you could clone yourself? Or at the very least have more arms?

Speak out. I want to know!

R.S.