Deep Breathing Time...or Shallow, Panicked Gasps, Whatever

There is this noise. In my head.

I hear it when I'm driving, listening to NPR and thinking about the midterm elections.

I hear it when I look at my work calendar and the growing to-do list and the furlough days that are eating away at my time to-do.

I hear it at 4:30 in the morning when Tankbaby decides to stage a late-game renegotiation about nightweaning, Malcolm X-style.

I hear it when I look ahead in the week and can't figure out when I will blog/exercise/do laundry/write e-mails/be a good, non-preoccupied friend.

I hear it when I'm trying to calmly think about whether or not I want another kid.

I hear it when the bag of dog poop breaks, leaving a smudgy fecal trail down my pant leg.

I hear it when I try to sleep.

And that sound goes like this:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!



Maybe if I turn up the radio a little louder.