Exhaustion

Last week was too jam packed and way too stressful for me.  Every day I had something to do that meant I had to pull myself together and get out there in the world.  I'm not crazy about "out there in the world" and no matter how simple the trip seems, interaction with strangers and some friends is loaded with possible emotional land-mines.  By Thursday I was depleted but had made arrangements to take Susan to CostCo.  I have a lot of nerve complaining about doing anything with Susan and calling it tiring and stressful.  She's delightful, but she has MS and it's getting really bad.  Moving around out in the world requires so much more attention and so much more effort for her; I'm ashamed to admit that I was spent when I got home, needing a long nap that I didn't allow myself to take.

Friday morning, way too early, my new tenant (the male one) called me.  After I struggled to consciousness and got to the phone, he'd hung up.  I used caller ID to call him back.  He had pocket dialed me.  It was the fault of the new phone.  He was sorry.  But I couldn't go back to sleep.  So Friday began cranky and sleep deprived. Friday was the day I was supposed to finish the rewrite of my novel and get ready to enter it in the ABNA contest on Sunday.  My brain was useless and angry that I was attempting to make it function at all.  No use arguing with your brain.  It makes the whole show run.  Best pay attention to what the brain is saying.  So I limped along doing a bit of this and a bit of that.  But real writing was out of the question.  That left Saturday.

Fortunately Saturday saved my ass.  I wrote and edited all day.  I finally got the whole book put together again in an entirely new way.  It was exhausting.  I skimped on meals and ignored my personal hygiene.  Fortunately the dogs only care about what they eat; they certainly don't mind me smelling like me and not soap, so no harm, no foul.  I did get to sleep at a decent hour and got up pretty early Sunday morning when Ms M dropped off Roscoe (we're working on a custody arrangement).

I read the book through again Sunday morning taking breaks to skim through the Sunday news shows (which I tape).  I still hate David Gregory.  Then Sunday afternoon I put myself through the hoops of the entry forms, and despite the fact the my San Francisco friend Phillip was on call, I did it all by myself.  I was jubilant.  Then I was depressed.  I sailed up to the ceiling and then I hit the floor.  I tried to watch the Super Bowl.  I was rooting for the Saints, but when the Colts scored twice early on, my energy sagged even lower.  It felt like the aftermath of a huge sugar high.  And then I realized I hadn't eaten anything.  I fixed myself a bowl of oatmeal.  Meh.

The Saints won; that should have made me feel better but it just made me feel less bad.  I cooked a boring dinner.  I watched Big Love.  Meh.  Still I couldn't go to sleep.

So today, I'm going to do a little housework, take a hot shower, and then I'm going to read and nap the rest of the day away.  Pretty exciting, no?