Good morning, people. I’ve just crawled out of the snuggly bed, and I’m wrapped in a giant robe. I feel like this is the calm before the storm. Today is gray and foggy; I hope it clears up before the lawn guy gets here.
As much as my brain tries to tell me I accomplished nothing, the weekend wasn’t bad. Shawshank asked me what I was doing at one point. “Deleting emails, mentally berating myself for not doing anything else,” I told him. However, the reality is I did do stuff. I emptied a cabinet, sorted and threw out more clothes, tossed out the My Little Pony stable I had, and brought down two more of the storage cubbies from upstairs. He told me not to beat myself up, but it so damned hard not to. I want to clean, but it’s difficult when I can’t just bring everything outside as I bag it up. I’m limited to a filling couple of giant trash bags and some cardboard boxes. Anything more than that, and I’d need to clear a path to walk from the front door to the kitchen.
The worst part of it all, aside from EVERYTHING, is how I feel as though everyone sees how long it’s taking and assumes I don’t want to leave. Do I want to leave? No, of course not, not under these circumstances anyway. While I’m not sure if I ever envisioned the rest of our lives in our little white house with the pink door, I certainly never expected to leave like this. When I was little, one of the antidrug commercials had the tagline “no one ever says they want to be a junkie when they grow up”. No one ever says “I want to stay with my husband after he’s deported for a felony”.
However, I made my choice and I’m doing this alone. I’m cleaning out 20 years of our lives together, as well as some random stuff we’ve brought along from before we were together. Alone. I’m not lollygagging because I don’t want to go to Shawshank. I’m not lollygagging. I’m doing what I can with what I have.
In a little while, I’ll go upstairs and do a short workout. My body is sore from three nights of backyard poi. For the most part, it’s upper body soreness, I’ve added some new moves and they use a lot more of my shoulders and back than I’m used to. My ankles are sore from doing it all barefoot on uneven ground.
I am so not looking forward to work today. It’s going to suck beyond belief. I feel like if I can go in only an hour early, without them calling me in even earlier, I’ll consider it lucky.
The new poi should be coming out this week sometime. That’s all I’m waiting for right now.
You’re low on spoons- if you’re familiar with the spoon theory? I think you sound incredibly productive. I have had to sort and purge, and I need to do a better job of that in my current life and I can’t imagine being as productive as you. You’re amazing.
I am familiar with the theory, I just never expected it to apply to me -_-
Yep. That’s really the crux of it. It’s totally possible that a person is perfectly capable of normal life. But life isn’t normal. Shit happens. And then your energy goes to a million places you didn’t expect