Have you ever had one of those days when everything just falls into place? When nothing unexpected happens? When you get everything done on time? When you end the day with a satisfying sense of accomplishment?

​Yeah, me neither.

​I often feel like an accidental passenger on a runaway train, careening toward some unknown destination, with me dangling precariously from the caboose, frantically grasping at the countless things that flash by — home repairs, work tasks, volunteer responsibilities, neglected relatives, social obligations, house cleaning, bills, holidays, family drama, daily minutia — desperately trying to take control to avoid a crash.

​Other times it’s as if I’m being buried deeper and deeper by an avalanche of the never-ending items on my to-do list, overwhelmed and unable to catch my breath. Or, I envision myself as an old, washed-up Raggedy Ann doll sinking into a pile of flashy new toys in an arcade machine at Chuck E. Cheese, longing for some kid with a pocketful of quarters to come along and use that metal claw to save me from drowning in my endless responsibilities.

​Dramatic, I know.

​I’ll admit that my mind concocts exaggerated visuals when my schedule gets hectic and I fall behind, but I can’t help but wonder, why does life always seem so busy?

​Many years ago, my Navy husband deployed for more than a year with a Joint Task Force in Africa, leaving me alone with our three young children, a house and yard to maintain, bills to pay, needy relatives, a broken computer, our sloppy labradoodle, Scout meetings, carpools, gutters to clean, flag football games, doctors’ appointments and a myriad of other responsibilities. Although I’d experienced shorter deployments as a Navy spouse, I wasn’t sure how I’d react to managing everything alone for an entire year.

​My military spouse friends who’d endured many long deployments had told me that I needed to get used to serving cereal for dinner, wearing pajama pants all day and drinking wine in the afternoon, because life as I knew it was over. They said I’d have a mental breakdown by the fourth month if I didn’t lower my standards, let the grass grow a foot high and allow the kids to watch PG-13 movies and go to bed without brushing their teeth.

​According to them, a military spouse’s main task during deployment was survival. Everything else was optional.

​Despite the overwhelming responsibility I took on that year, I surprised myself by managing just fine. Nothing was perfect by any means, but for the most part, I kept our household and family life running smoothly during that deployment, even without midday cocktails and Froot Loops for dinner. I suffered mini-breakdowns here and there, but they were nothing that couldn’t be rectified with a good cry and a pint of Cherry Garcia.

​Why, then, do I become so overwhelmed by the minutia of daily life now that the kids are adults and my husband doesn’t deploy anymore?

​In retrospect, I now understand that I’d heard so many awful deployment stories involving unexpected chaos such as car troubles, stomach flu, burst pipes, teacher conferences, storm damage, and even childbirths that happened while military spouses were managing households and families alone, I was mentally prepared to handle just about anything that might happen. The deployment was such a significant life event, my subconscious had thoroughly prepared itself for combat. Without realizing it, I’d built a strong fortification that protected me from the barrage of incoming stressors and unexpected events that inevitably happen during deployments.

​Without a significant life event like deployment to trigger my natural defenses, my subconscious remains open and vulnerable. I take on too much. I write long to-do lists. I fall behind. I lose sight of what’s really important. I become overwhelmed by minutia.

​Cue the dramatic visualizations.

​Perhaps the key to handling the many responsibilities in our modern busy lives is to always maintain a “deployment mindset.” Whether our active-duty spouses are home or away, military spouses should remember that our main task is survival; everything else is optional. And never forget, in the event of a breakdown, just have good cry and a pint of Cherry Garcia.

Read more at themeatandpotatoesoflife.com and in Lisa’s book, “The Meat and Potatoes of Life: My True Lit Com.” Email: meatandpotatoesoflife@gmail.com