Bathtub In The Hallway Syndrome

When our children were small we lived in a big old nineteenth century farmhouse. It was a great place to raise them, and we loved living there. We spent most of the first several years building and unbuilding, adding on rooms, and knocking out walls to change other rooms. The kids thought having doorways covered with large sheets of plastic was the normal way to live.
Our house had a large bathroom on the main floor, and a laundry room that was quite a bit smaller. With five children, our laundry room was always busy, so we decided to change the rooms, and it was a good decision, but it was one of those projects that seemed to go on forever. I am sure we finished the laundry room first, because there was another bathroom with a tub and a shower on the second floor. During that time, our big, old clawfoot tub lived in the hallway, And it took up most of the space, so we were tripping over the tub for what seemed like months. The kids loved it, and spent a lot of time playing in the tub. Soon, I was tripping over both the tub and the the little people who thought they lived there. And of course, as things do, nothing went smoothly. Parts had to be specially ordered. The wallpaper rolls didn't match when they finally arrived. Etcetera, etcetera....

 I am not a woman who usually shares a lot with strangers, but I found myself telling anyone I saw about the bathtub in the hallway. People in the grocery store check out line, and the cashiers at the mall, all heard about my cast iron bathtub. (This tub was directly in the path of the kitchen and the laundry. These were the rooms where I spent a lot of my time in those days!) If someone said "Hello" or "How's your day?" or "What's new?", they would hear my long, sad, boring remodeling story. I couldn't stop talking about it. I was overwhelmed, and consumed by the disorder in my daily life.
And that is how I feel today. Good things are happening, and I am extremely happy. But the app on my phone reminds me that I am getting married in 51 days! NOTE TO SELF: Small, simple wedding plans never stay that way. And my calendar tells me I am moving in just 8 days. I worry, because, not only do I not have a kitchen now, I have hardly cooked at all in eight years. I worry, because I have gotten used to living alone. If one can call it living alone while sharing a house with twenty eight young men! I worry about combining and honoring our pasts, while building a new life together that is uniquely our own. I worry that I am still fat. And I worry just because I can think of all sorts of new things to worry about.
 Classes are starting in 4 days, and everyone has moved back into the Frat House this week. They just began a big reconstruction project here, because of water damage. This project was first scheduled early in the summer, and was supposed to be finished weeks ago, before we had a full house. This fall it is noisier than usual, since parts of the public space are off limits until the work is completed.   I am now in full blown "Bathtub in the Hallway Syndrome."
My symptoms are a little different, but at this time I am definitely Overwhelmed and Underorganized.  I am trying a few different ways to not feel overloaded. They may or may not be helping. I am working very hard to be conscious of where I put my phone, my purse, my glasses, and my keys. Even though I live in a very small space, I can lose anything here, and I have, especially now that there are boxes everywhere. I can hold something in my hand, and, in a minute, it is gone and I have to spend time looking in all the unlikely places I may have set it down. I think it is because this space has never really felt like my home.
I started going through all the boxes in my storage area. I really wish I hadn't taken on that project right now, but I don't want to carry all of this with me to my future life. The last two times I moved, I just put all the papers and memorabilia in boxes without sorting or looking at it. It wasn't time yet, and I couldn't face it. Now, I am ready to let go of things I have kept too long, but it still isn't easy. I keep telling myself that I don't need every word I have ever written, every craft supply, every book I have bought, and every decorative item. I don't have a lot of furniture anymore, but I have substituted with lots and lots of little things.
Now, as the deadline nears, I am saying no to a lot of people and projects. And cancelling appointments. If I have ignored you, not returned your call, or have just disappeared for a while, I guess I just have to say "Sorry, not sorry."  You are probably lucky. I would just be talking about the phantom bathtub anyway!