I, my friends, have hit the wall.

It, no doubt, has something to do with the fact that in the past 2 months, I've gotten only two weekends off. Both of those, AFAICR, involved doing very exhausting things, and they weren't so much weekends off as they were days trying to catch up with the rest of my life.

Nonetheless, bills remain unpaid, trash lies uncollected, laundry sits unwashed.

Futility isn't exactly what I mean, but it's the best word I can come up with at the moment.

The bright, but possibly disastrous, spot in all of this is that I know that this can't go on forever, for various reasons.

Either I survive, or I don't.

I've gotten to the point where there's no use in worrying about it. Whatever happens, happens.

The ends of years just absolutely kill me.