The morning started out sunny, but around lunchtime the skies grew dark and our phone began warning us of severe storms on the way. Some of my outdoor projects will have to be put off. Tomorrow is looking dreary too, so it may be midweek before progress is made.
It’s nearing evening now, and I’m frustrated by how easily the body gives out. Coffee and some natural drive got me through the morning, but my energy levels quickly fizzled out from there. I’m considering some afternoon tea and a boost of B12 to carry me through the until bedtime.
Not that there is much left to do now, or much time left to do it in even if I wanted. The groceries are bought, the laundry is folded, the dishes washed and put away. There will be some time for writing, for planning the work week, and for crucial self-care needs, but the to-do list never really ends and there is always more you wish you could do and more weekend you wish you had to do it in.
I make the best use of what I have, but there is always something left unchecked, something I didn’t get to, something that has to be put off. Two days has never been enough for the errands, the cleaning, the visits with family, the projects, the rest, and all the fun you’re in desperate need of before you must give up more precious hours of your life for bills and necessities you only end up resenting.
And like clockwork, I slip into the usual Sunday blues.
I was woken up early by the dog loudly announcing packages were being delivered. It was infuriating but effective.
My new compression sleeve came early this morning and before breakfast I was back out walking around the neighborhood. When I came home, I tried some squats and lunges and felt my other knee protesting so I think I will buy another and accept the fact that my joints are never going to be what they once were, not that they were ever what they should have been in the first place.
I’ve decided to do half of my weekend chores on Saturdays instead of being lazy all day and saving it all for Sunday and by the time the walk was done and all the cleaning too, I was too tired to do any real writing. I did manage to finally finish reading Borne by Jeff VanderMeer after nearly a month of struggling. I’m happy it’s done. I loved the message, but I struggled to suspend belief and fully immerse myself in the world VanderMeer had created.
I’m going to quickly finish a Penguin Little Black Classic or two to catch up to where I should be by now and then start a stint of women writers only for a while.
I thought Friday nights were getting depressing, but Saturday nights are even worse. I’m bored out of my mind and so is my wife. I long to go out somewhere and be among people so badly. Not being able to work is one thing. It’s a bummer, but it was still work so I’m not too eager to go back, but restaurants? Movie theaters? Bars? These I miss to my core.
It helps to change the scenery, position and perspective. So, we’re back in the bedroom watching TV and listening to a faint thunderstorm roll in and out around us. It’s soothing enough to allow me to forget.