I'll Have Mine

In spring of my senior year of high school, I asked our French teacher how to say, "I'm overwhelmed".

Je suis accablée.  

I like to think it roughly translates to being ensnared in cables.  It probably doesn't.  But it's a good mnemonic.   

I also like to scoff at that eighteen year old.  She was overwhelmed?  Please.

At the time, I was.  It may not have been that major, in the grand scheme, but I hadn't developed the stellar coping skills that I have now, and now I'm really overwhelmed.

But also, my coping skills aren't that stellar.

They talk about fright or flight.  Recently, they've started adding "freeze" as an option, and honestly, that's my option when things get really hairy.  I'm definitely not a fighter (Sure, well, verbally, but physically?  No.)  I am not a flight risk - too slow, too stubborn.  But freeze?  Oh, hell yeah.

One of my overused and chronically unhelpful habits is to get so overwhelmed that I basically have to take a nap.  I mean, I can power through and not take a nap, but if I can, I find sleep helps me re-regulate.  And then, I wake up in a panic and use that adrenaline to power through whatever is next.

I also use empty calories.  So it's fight, flight, freeze, or feast.

Sometimes, I also dance:  fight, flight, freeze, feast, or foxtrot.

Just kidding about that last one.  I don't think I could foxtrot to save my life.  But thankfully, it's never come to that.

But I am feeling a little overwhelmed.  That part is extremely true.

We are in the final weeks of preparing for my mother's memorial service, and little ideas keep popping up about logistics, equipment, etc.  For my part, it makes me want to sleep.

The challenge in waiting five months post-mortem, is that presumably, people are going to be thinking, "They've had so much time - surely nothing about this will be half-baked!"  And I feel like it is very, very much half baked.

But we'll get there.  I have, at least, written my roughest draft of a eulogy.  It's probably overly long, but I can hone it in the next few weeks.

Anyway - there's that.

In addition to that, we have Easter.  I do love a good chocolate bunny.  I actually bought a troika of chocolate bunnies on one of my last jaunts down to Atlanta.

This is the IKEA Flat Pack Chocolate Bunny.  He arrives in three pieces, and you have to assemble him.  I already gave one to my friend, Jim - the other two are for me and Matt - we'll get into them closer to the holiday.  Jim named his Sproketz, and told me later that Sproketz may not make it to Easter.  Preach!

I love Easter candy.  Put regular candy in pastel colors and shiny boxes, and I am a fool for it.  Now, granted, there are a few candies that you typically get only at Easter - like a giant bunny.

Or eggs.

There are two versions of candy egg that spike my heart rate and blood sugar.

Behold, the Cadbury Mini Egg, in all its crunchy/creamy glory.   I know that this time of year, it's all about the Cadbury Egg, in its sweet, shiny foil wrapper.  

But I could turn down the goo all day, every day.  I like the little guys.  I like them way, way too much, to be honest.

Now, the other one is a long time favorite, and they're only available in any way or form, at Easter.

Hello darkness, my old friend.  The Russell Stover Maple Cream Egg.

It's the dark chocolate combined with the earthy maple that just works for me.  Now, in bad confectionary news, a few years ago, Russell and/or Stover decided to change the shape of the egg.  It used to be taller than it was wide, and in an obvious egg shape.  Now, it's more like a slightly thicker York Peppermint Patty, and really doesn't read as egg so much as it does cow flop.  That lessens the experience a little - the loft of the MCE was part of the appeal.  But it reminds me of a really good chocolate chip cookie in candy form.

So yes, I have a lot of opinions about candy.  And being overwhelmed.

And really, I need to separate those two things.

ae