Exhaustion. I’m really amazed at how thoroughly exhausted I’ve been this week. I think I underestimated how much energy our trip to NYC was going to require – and coupled with the loss of those oh-so-essential weekends at home to recoup, Monday morning was a tough one. Each night we’ve tackled small things – a grocery run, unpacking, a trip to the laundromat (because nothing is more fun than returning home from a trip to a broken washing machine), trying to get back into some sort of routine.
It’s bizarre how my mind and body can go at full speed ahead almost all the time – I’m more routine driven than maybe I thought. But as soon as I interrupt that routine with even the smallest shift in schedule – a Monday holiday, a sick day at home, a weekend trip, or a weeklong break – well, it seems like I have to relearn everything that I had previously set to auto-pilot. I forget the regular stuff. I met M at the gym Monday night, and then proceeded to fill him in on dinner plans, forgetting that he takes E to violin lessons on Monday nights. (It’s fortunate that we actually had that brief conversation between planking sessions, or I might have driven home without F.) All week I’ve forgotten things, sign-up forms and water bottles and Friday brown bag lunches. I can’t catch up. I can’t find the reset button.
I want to be so energized by the seasonal shifts, but even my running feels forced and sluggish. I’m wiped out, and it’s got me down. Sure, I took a week off for vacation, and I should cut myself a little slack. But outside of that time off, the constant, relentless nature of daily life never lets up. I can tell myself to take a night off, relax, turn off the to-do list for awhile. Others tell me that as well. But it never goes away, so it’s just compounding when I do. We divide and conquer really well in our house, but some days it just feels like we’re in a constant state of putting out fires. There’s always a next wave behind the last one. We knock out the annual appointments and it’s time to schedule summer camps. We fill out those applications, write those deposit checks, deliver them, and then it’s tax time. Week’s end, time for a new menu and a grocery store run. The older one can’t fit into her spring shoes, the younger one’s worn holes through hers.
I find myself daydreaming about not working for awhile – just a month or two, several weeks in a row where I can knock out some of these things during the daylight hours rather than trying to muster up the energy at ten o’clock on a Wednesday night, or spending a gorgeous spring Saturday chained to my desk or running four thousand errands. I know that wouldn’t solve everything, and I’ll continue trying my best to simplify and reduce the to-do’s on the front end. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fighting off a bit of envy for those with an open Tuesday, and an open Wednesday to follow.