This year has been a mass/mess of traveling, but since our brief jaunt to Tahoe last week, I’ve been home home home (okay, except for an SCA event, but that was a day trip). I don’t know how to express how good this feels. Tonight, listening to the rain, I think I’m gradually starting to feel like myself again.
Maybe. I hope.
I have no official trips (other than day things) scheduled until late December, except maybe Thanksgiving with my sister and her family in Monterey (which reminds me, crap, she left me a message about that on Tuesday and I still haven’t called her back). This makes me want to weep with relief. By Thanksgiving I’ll probably be excited about venturing forth, but right now? I get to stay home? I get to find some semblance of routine with working out and writing and errands and slowly dragging the house back towards cleanliness? Really? Can I, huh, huh, can I really?
I’m exhausted. Mentally, emotionally. Physically, I’m not entirely up to speed with working out, but I’m doing okay. (Okay, barely.) But the rest of it? Hitting rock bottom means the only way out is up, right? I’m really going to get my brain back, right? Creativity and enthusiasm are just around the corner…right?
In December, Ken is flying east to help my mom drive to South Carolina for the winter. Because he’s that awesome, because he knows what would be best for me is to have that time at home, to not have to plan another frakking trip where I have to be in charge of things. I hope by then I can make productive use of that time, that I won’t sit around watching reruns of Law & Order and wishing I could find the energy, the enthusiasm, the whatever’s missing to get up and walk into my office and work.
I woke up this morning and thought, If I were really my own boss, I would’ve fired my ass weeks ago.
I hope, over the next few weeks, that I’ll be able to settle into a lenient schedule, one that shoehorns in appointments and workouts and whatnot, where we use all the nummy fresh food we’ve acquired to make healthy meals (on deck: vegetable soup, Thai peanut tofu and veggie stir-fry, a vat of spagetti sauce [most to freeze], calzones, some sort of Indian stuff Ken bought). That I’ll have the energy to help with housework so the house is somewhere I actually want to be. That I’ll have time to read all the groovy books that have piled up, which I really am excited about reading, somewhere, beneath the exhaustedness.
For now, though, I’m going to take a moment to listen to Eostre snoring and the rain outside, and go upstairs and read for a bit and cuddle with an already sleeping Ken and be happy that I’m going to sleep as late as I damn well want in the morning.