Everyone knows I'm in over my head.

Mummy Toe sent me a note today asking me if I was doing too much.

Maybe.

But certainly not the things I want to do be doing. Like writing here. And accomplishing pretty much everything else on my wish list for 2009. (FYI, self - stop writing resolutions. It doesn't work! Sets you up for failure!)

When I look at my calendar, I see each weekend filled with many things outside the realm of my own decision making. Like the cousin getting married and her bachelorette party, bridal shower and actual nuptials. All on subsequent weekends. Good-bye, October!

Or, you know, I could blame it on being a good parent and taking Daughter X to Disney World, the pumpkin patch (where she promptly wanted to vomit since she wasn't feeling well), or weekly swimming lessons.

Or it could be about trying to desperately catch up, literally, to my running partners since I made a two-week stop-over at Sinus Infection City. At this point, I've pretty much given myself over to the fact I will be stuffed with snot from August 1 to November 1 every year. And that it usually goes downhill from there without antibiotic intervention.

Overscheduled? Overwhelmed? Bah! Enough of such backtalk. I could definitely cry myself a river, like I did for the first part of this year, over everything I cannot seem to do. Like relax. Like have downtime. Like figure out how to get the Pattinson in my house for a smoke and a book chat.

But there are things to celebrate. I have written things! Two new things, precisely. And I'm still part of a writing group which, admittedly, seems to be falling apart. But one that I'm hanging onto for dear life. And I am about to eclipse last year's reading record and it's only October - I won't read 50 books this year, but I will read 40. I accomplished several DIY projects over the summer and have high hopes for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays in the way of blue tape, paint and a high-powered spray nozzle. I am training (if you want to call it that) for a marathon. And a half marathon. Please remember, running is cheaper than therapy.

So, no, I haven't made much progress with the novel writing, nail biting or my yo-yo-ing enthusiasm for fitness, but baby steps, people. I am taking baby steps.

I'm not in over my head. I'm simply treading water. Like the best of us.