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I don’t know who among you reading this will be shocked and who will stand up and yell ABOUT DAMN TIME, WOMAN.

I’ve been facing this decision for some time, and through a multitude of tiny steps I inched my way toward it, nailing it down by unofficial degrees, but never being brave enough to take a step that would commit me fully and financially. I seeded the ground earlier this week, not explaining to my friends what was going on but saying “if I don’t commit by the weekend, beat me senseless.”

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Oddly, it wasn’t as horrible as I expected. I think I half-expected the potential housekeeper to come in, blanch at the horror, and say in hushed tones, We can make it right … for a price!

It wasn’t anything like that, really. We talked about the square footage of the house, and we talked about how frequently I needed help, and some of the crazier chores I needed help with, and what day of the week was best.

All those antacids and it ended up totally being a business transaction. Which was exactly what I needed. I’d put aside the thought of dealing with this issue while I was in Colorado, and I was so slammed after getting home that I didn’t have much time to obsess over hiring household help.

I made the leap. I hired her.

Admitting you’re in over your head is hard. It hurts. I don’t know anyone who enjoys it, and I don’t know any fellow perfectionists who can do it without feeling a great deal of shame, hesitation, or remorse.

This afternoon, I admitted that I was in over my head, and I pulled out a recommendation I’ve been sitting on for months — I called a professional housecleaning service, and have an appointment with the owner after I get back from my conference. We’re going to go over what parts of the house I could realistically ask a third-party service to clean, and if the cost is reasonable … bite the bullet, swallow my pride, and do it.

Yesterday, in sewing terms, was nothing short of an epic journey. I had to check my last.fm account to see a tally of exactly what the final answer was (the question, of course, being, “What do I have to do to finish this quilt top this weekend?”) —

• 4 episodes of the Splendid Table (200 min total)
• 1 episode of WireTap (26 min)
• 1 episode of On Being (50 min)
• 4 episodes of Trust Inc (112 min total)
• 1 episode of Marketplace (27 min each)
• 1 episode of The World’s ‘tech’ podcast (16 min)

431 minutes, or just over 7 hours. I had joked about treating Saturday like a workday, except a workday devoted to fabric instead of software troubleshooting, and I think it’s safe to say I actually followed through on my jest.

It has been a hectic few months. Travel enough and you have this constant, vague sense of displacement; wake up, and you wonder for a moment, where am I today? You are frequently a timezone ahead, or a flight behind, or some combination of the two, and every hotel room has an alarm clock that works in a slightly different way.

I am trying to get back into the rhythm of life-at-home. I am trying to learn to pace myself on weekdays, to leave time for therapy and other things, and to cook mightily on weekends. A couple of crockpots full of food on a weekend makes a much saner week.

I am — solitary, these days. I am aware that I really need to get out, maybe work from a coffeeshop for a half day or so, maybe see a movie on a weekend, but the truth is that I've had so few home hours in the past month or so that I'm just not ready to emerge yet. I know I should suggest to Jeff that he get out of the house, even if I'm not ready to just yet.

Scott, bless him, offered to come up for a few days around New Year's, and we've been busy creatures during that time. The New Job™ means I work out of the house, but the bad part? I didn't really have a good workspace for me, my phone, and my laptop.

We needed to fix that, but doing so meant that we needed to tear down not one but TWO corner desks, combine two computers into a single work station, put in shelving, and blah and meow and etc.

Good news: we're mostly done.