Hello. My name is Kel. I'm a planner-a-holic.

Ok, so I don't know if that's a word, but planning too much must certainly be a disease. I know. I have it.

Case in point:
My trip to Catalina with Dit. I was constantly checking my watch, determining what time we had to be somewhere, or how much time we had left, and calculating (backward) how much time we had left to do 'x'. All weekend. From the time we dropped Punkin off at daycare. Right up until we got back to my house that Sunday evening.

All this past weekend I did it. Mom called to say she was on her way Friday night, and I immediately calculated what time (approximately) she would be at our house, when we should start the videos for Punkin, how long Mom would have to play with her, and how long Mom and I would have to talk.

Saturday, I did it all morning as I accomplished some things around the house, made lunches, put Punkin down for a nap and got myself ready for the party we were to attend that afternoon.

Sunday I did it from the moment I got up until the moment I fell asleep. When to be at Jewel to pick up sandwiches for the shower, how long it would take to get there, how much time we would have left to finish setting up for before the guests arrive, when to play games, when to eat, when to get ourselves back home, Punkin into bed, how much time is left to finish the housework that needs to be done, etc., etc., etc. I kept telling myself to relax and just "let it go." I was fretting for no apparent reason.

I can't relax and enjoy the day. I find myself on a schedule, and it's usually self-imposed. I am constantly checking my watch. "So don't wear a watch" you say. Ok, well, then I'm frantically searching for a clock or someone else with a watch.

"Learn to relax" you say. Um, ok. How? My body doesn't seem to remember how. About six months ago I carved out some time for me to take a nice relaxing, soothing bubble bath instead of a my daily shower. The water was the perfect temperature, there were bubbles. I lowered myself into the tub, closed my eyes and nothing. Nothing had changed. I forced myself to sit there for 10 minutes with my eyes closed, struggling to relax. (Yes, I see the irony in that.) I. Just. Couldn't. Do. It. Too many things were crowding out all the "sandy beach and gentle breeze" thoughts. I opened my eyes and saw a rubber duck staring back at me. I waved the proverbial white flag and gave up.

I'm not like this one hundred percent of the time, but I spend a lot of time feeling like I'm wound tighter then one of those wind up toys Bio-Mom has in a huge brandy snifter in her entertainment center. If I try to just sit and relax I fall asleep. I can't sleep. There's too much to do, too much to think about.

Do I have some obsessive compulsive disorder? Is it a need to be able to control some specific thing? Do I just need a week (or a month) away from everything in order to relax? (Oh yeah, the best thing for a planner like me is to dump me on a beach somewhere with nothing to do and take away my watch. I'm thinking that would be just the thing to put me over the edge.)

I just feel like I can't ever relax. I definitely need some help. Is there a Planners Anonymous out there for me? Can you help me? Can anybody?

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