Adam Oster, Novelist

Life has been obnoxiously busy over the past few weeks. Between waiting for grades, work, kids, and one big thing that I can’t quite announce yet, on top of the normal life stuff, I feel like I’ve been running from place to place non-stop, and even today, while I write this post, I’m sitting here thinking about all the things I need to get done yet today without any real ability to think of any other random thing to talk about.

I’m in this weird high-functioning form of brain-dead causing me to have absolutely no thoughts outside of this constantly morphing list of tasks that never actually feels like it gets any shorter.

And all I really want to do is to wrap up inside a heated blanket and wait until the world gets warmer again.

And maybe have a drink… or three.

I’m even sitting here trying to find some way to make this post into some clever commentary on something, like a metaphor for living in a pandemic-filled world that is anxiously awaiting more information about the new variant coming down the pipeline, but, well, I just don’t have it in me.

What I have in me is an attempted minute-by-minute schedule of my day for the rest of the day, and a vague concept of how I’m going to get through the next few days, which are filled with all sorts of crazy activities that all hang in the balance of a pandemic threatening to infect my home and possibly take away my ability to complete any of these necessities…which, to be honest, I’m a little on the fence about whether that’s a bad thing or not.

So, instead of anything clever, I’m leaving you with this message of nonsense. I’m not complaining, not really unhappy, just busy, and mentally taxed, and at the point where I really can’t wait until I get through some of these big tasks sitting on my plate and actually have the time to sit back and enjoy life a little bit.

And maybe have a drink…or three.