There’s a weird moon out there. I’ve been out of sorts physically and mentally for over a week now and want to blame it on lunar activity.
The Christmas and New Year holiday season is over now, which could have something to do with my lowly state. After a surge of activity one could naturally feel depleted. I’m in a state of zombie; despite the things I want and have to do I can’t find my get-up-and-go.
Could be I need a vacation from the day job. I haven’t had a real vacation in quite some time; maybe I need to vacate public service for a while.
I can’t even find the energy to figure out why I’m so restless, so I’m back to the moon again. It’s weird, the moon. I hope it starts waning soon.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I was going to live low in that other post. I have been living low this week, and it’s a good thing because if I had decided to live high I would have crashed to the ground after everything that’s happened. Because I’m living low there was no crash, just a nod and shrug of the shoulders indicating but of course, why would I expect anything else?
Not only did I have to return to the day job after a holiday weekend of being sick, a whole bunch of other stuff happened:
1. the oven died
2. my car died
3. the zipper on my private-things-I don’t-want-people-to-see-when-my-purse-falls-to-the-floor-and-all-the-contents-spill-out pouch died
After two days in the hospital my 13-year-old Saturn recovered and is back at my service, better than ever, thank God. The oven is still dead and we’ve been making due with stove-top meals because like most 21st century Amish people Husby and I do not own a microwave. Hopefully the oven doctor will rectify the problem before the end of the week. As for that pouch zipper, I think that’s just a done deal and I’ll have to find a new pouch for all of those personals.
And there is nothing lower than the fact that I’m writing this post while Smokey and the Bandit II is on the TV. I’m not even kidding you. It’s just sad.
Proof my week has gone to hell in a handcart. Here's to hoping next week is better.
Last night I sat in the dark, only the Christmas tree lights casting a reddish glow throughout the room, and I was overcome by a feeling of anxiety. What should have been a peaceful time turned stressful for me because as the clock ticked away, hands moving too quickly toward the midnight hour, I anticipated what was ahead of me after my slumber ~ the day job.
I had a nice, long weekend, which was unfortunately ruined by a nasty cold. When I could have been engaged and actively enjoying the last weekend of 2011 I was distracted by snot insomnia, a hacking cough and way too much fatigue. It just wasn’t fair, and now I’d have to go back to the busyness of working nine hours a day, unable to accomplish the things I would have done had I not been sick.
A list ran through my head of things I wanted and had to do. That’s when the anxiety kicked in. Too much to do! I must do this, I have to do that, I don’t want to do that other thing but if I don’t the world will come to a complete halt! Then an amazing thing happened. I thought to myself, so what if you don’t get to it all within the next 24, 48, or even 72 hours? Cat Stevens began singing in my head, telling me I could do what I want, the opportunity’s on.
I didn’t feel any happier about returning to work after what seemed to be a complete non-weekend, but the pressure to GET IT ALL DONE RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE had dissipated. I can do what I want, and so can you. I decided to live low this week, because Cat Stevens said I can.
Auntie B's Wax 