Sunday, August 23, 2015

It's Time To Get My Bodacious Groove On

Sunday night. I'm still in go-go-go mode. Earlier today I got about 8 hours of work caught up and completed. I made a scrumptious dinner. I baked apple crisp. Above all, I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever it was that kicked my ass for an entire week had appeared to have exited my system. Energy restored. Back on track.

Monday through Saturday afternoon, I had been hit with something. Total. Knock. Out. No exaggeration. After making a cup of tea, I napped. Walking from the kitchen to the office exhausted me. I spent most of the time on the sofa or in bed. I barely had it in me to sit at my desk. On Thursday, I did manage to bake biscuits, but I rested between batches. Lisa took over the baking when she got home from work while I...napped.

Lots of down time. For a while, I felt guilty. Nothing was getting done around the house. Lisa's dinners consisted of cereal or pancakes or grilled cheese. Very little playtime with the fur-kids. They understood I was sick and, most times, napped with me. Countless times the "I'll do it...just let me rest for a few minutes" turned into an hour-long nap followed by the task getting put off until later. Or tomorrow.

Because tomorrow I'm going to feel better. I am. I am. I am.

I went stir crazy. I don't do well with extended amounts of down time...especially lasting almost a week. I have come to embrace my bodacious, crazy days...getting by with only a few hours of sleep here and there. I've grown accustomed to wheeling my desk chair back at 3:30 a.m. and muttering, "Time to stop. It'll be here when you wake up." My desk is never without virtual piles of works or my to-do Post-It Notes.

By the end of the week, I was on the verge of tears. I wanted to put time aside Friday to tackle my growing pile of "I'll get to it later...or tomorrow." I had a bunch of work to catch up on. I fell behind on the blog site. Housework. Baking. Organizing. Steam clean the carpets (we do this once a month). However, by the time Lisa called on her lunch break Friday, I knew it wasn't happening. Oh, I'll just nap. I'll feel better when I wake up.

No. Such. Luck.

I'm guessing, by the end of the week, Lisa grew tired of hearing, "I'm so sorry I'm sick." Each time I expressed the guilt, she'd reply with, "You don't need to apologize." Then, after apology number 228, she said, "Stop apologizing. Now. Just stop. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Bingo. She hit the nail on the head.

That's the bush I had been scampering around and flirting with. I was beating myself up for what? Being sick? Something I had no control over. I very seldom get sick. When I do, I'm down for a day Two tops. But a week? Never. Regardless. It was out of my control. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. I've been in this work mode for years. Long hours. Crazy schedule. Very little sleep. I'm used to it. However, the universe has a peculiar way of restoring balance and dealing with the stubborn folk, like myself.

You need a break. You need rest. If you're not going to do it on your own then...well, here, allow me to assist in the process.

From that point on I exhaled. I sat on the sofa for hours. I snuggled in bed with the fur-kids dozing on and off. When I didn't have my face in a book, I fixated on random objects around the room. Reflection. Deep thought. Stuff I hadn't thought about in years surfaced. Epiphanies. Perspective. Lots of, "Well I'll be damned." And, maybe a few scattered, "This needs to change."

Our fur-kids are truly remarkable for so many of which is knowing when we're sick. They snuggle close and watch over us. Lots of juicy kisses. They don't leave our side and wake easily when we adjust our position on the sofa or in bed. It's the look of, "Mom, you okay?" 

I need to put more effort into certain areas and lighten up and-or relinquish efforts in others. 

I've wasted too much time this year waiting for people to show up. 

I've also wasted too much time showing up.

There is a fine line between those who ask "do you need anything" and the ones who just do it.

Our days of celebration, regardless of nature, are just as important as yours and yours and yours...whether it's celebrating the life of someone who recently passed or anniversary.

More of this. Less of that.

It's time for a partial social detox. 

How much time does one save typing "HBD" instead of "Happy Birthday?" Or "ur" instead of "your?" Or "yt" instead of "you there?" Are we really that strapped for time or just plain lazy?

Money and prestige change people.  

When you tell me you've traveled the world and brag of your status on the corporate ladder, please know, I am not in the least bit impressed. You stalk. So do I.  

Tomato sandwiches don't taste the same on 100% whole wheat bread. The same holds true for grilled cheeses.

My decision to step down from the corporate ladder and bid my farewell to the rat race (that's all it is, really) was easy. Watching the chaos from the outside looking in has been life changing. I have no desire to return. 

No regrets.

It's time.

Yep. It's Sunday. I've kicked this stomach bug to the curb. It's time to get my bodacious groove on.

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