I was in my own train wreck yesterday without even leaving the house. Bits and pieces all over the place with about four minutes to pick them up and put them back together.
The key is to move. The bed will talk to you like melted chocolate.
I cussed, folded laundry, whipped egg whites and folded in chocolate chips and dried cherries. I made phone calls, toasted walnuts, stirred them into butter, flour, and sugar, rolled them into balls, and dotted them with jam, squared off half inches of brownie and wrapped them in wax paper and I brushed my teeth and then brushed my teeth again. I made menus for work, swept the dust out the door without looking for the dustpan, I told Jonathan how to make chicken soup, asked him to give my boy a hug for me and stuck to the schedule, taking the #7 train to the west side at 4:30.
By the time I got home I looked like somebody’s gym towel from last week.
The trick is, when you’re done, go to bed. At 8:39 I crawled to my raft of a mattress and at 8:40 I was sleeping.