Best of you
Imagine someone standing on their tiptoes: hands way up in the air and fingers stretched out as far as they can go. From the very top of my stretched out fingers to the bottom of my toes… that is how tired I am.
The past 3 weeks have not been an exercise in reclamation. No whimsy related mitigative actions were taking. And what lesson has the past three weeks taught me? There are times in life that are going to suck: times when there will be more deadlines than days in the week (check), overdue committments (check), angry coworkers and clients alike (check), money troubles (check) and the general stress of trying to keep up a home life when work life is demanding everything you have and you are training for a 30 km race in those precious few moments of free time.
Anyone want an invite to my pity party? I am sipping a delicious wine store find from a sippy cup with a bunny on it, and I’m more than willing to share the Valentines cupcakes I burned the sweet bejesus out of today.
And now, five readers, you are up to speed. See, you didn’t miss much while I was busy rocking back and forth in the corner. So, what is the plan?
Well, Fatty had a great post about The Secret last week; it made me giggle like a nitwit. The secretaries who sit outside my office have lived through the 7 Stages of Stress with me this week (euphoria, caffeine, denial, chocolate, more chocolate, Taylor Swift blaring from my tinny laptop speakers and hysteria), so I can only assume the mid day mirth-fest was appreciated by all (assume being the key word in that sentence: most people have stopped talking to me for fear of getting barked at).
I digress. Fatty got me thinking. You know what? Repeat after me… things will only get better if you make them better. Ignoring the negatives is key. A lot of the things that suck now are out of my control (because who really wants to drop the ball… HARD… three weeks before raise time?), but what IS in my control is the following:
- My limited free time could certainly be filled with activities other than randomly perusing the interworld.
- I could definitely take some time during the day to stand up, walk around and exchange pleasantries… rather than practising the death glare / stink eye combo at every possible opportunity.
- I could really stand to quit beating myself up when a workout gets cut short (or gets cut… period) for the sake of putting out a fire… See now, here is the thing: I am not likely to make the Olympic team anytime in this lifetime, but I have at least 30 more years of Rock Doctoring ahead of me. Being a grown up, people, sometimes really sucks.
- And lastly, but most importantly, I could take time to take care of me, the hubster and my long-suffering Fur Children.
Time to change some of those “coulds” into “wills”. I made two lists today: one of things I would like to do and the other of what I would do if I won the lottery. As the former is far more probable than the latter, let’s review my plan:
- Continue to train to the best of my ability. I don’t have a 40-hour week job… 9 to 5-er extracurriculars are out of my reach… for now. The pursuit of this life, however, is underway.
- Avoid spending my free time on things that are not helping me become my best self (ahem, internet addiction).
- Give time to the things that have been on my list for longer than I care to discuss (learn to swim! read more books! learn about bloody isotopes!).
- Call my mother. And my friends. And all the people who are near and dear to me that I have pushed away in the hopes of not subjecting them to my terminal crankiness. Alienation is no fun, unless there are spaceships and googly-eyed strangers.
I have my marching orders (Unless I win the lottery, of course, and then all bets are off. But I will be sure to drown you in frequent updates of my fabulosity if The Dream is realized). Until then, I have an electric blanket /snuggie combo and a second glass of wine calling my name; time to put some of this self-realization into action.