losing my marbles

I'm feeling like a piece of fabric stretched so much there becomes space between the threads. Where I once felt like a tightly knit blanket, I now feel like a taut fishermen's net.

I am so saturated with work, work, study, work, love, life, work, study. The process of my understanding this part of life began with amazement: Wow, I can really fit in such much. I can do it, and I never thought it was possible.

Recently, that understanding has fermented and matured: I am fitting in so much, but everything is getting trimmed, cut back, shortened. When I only have half an hour to walk Nina and take a breath before driving to class after a full day of school, or when I eat breakfast standing up at the sink, when I forget the bag of materials for the science experiment on the table at home, I feel like that net of my life, stretched so tight it leaves holes wide open, is letting these things fall out of those holes. A handful of rocks and pebbles in a worn out pocket. The small ones fall out and get lost.

I can do more than I can do, but not well. Not mindfully.

I'm trying to hold a handful of marbles, and because there are so many, every so often one fall out of the space between my fingers.

I don't like this.