Anyone who knows me really well could tell you that my outward appearance of organization is somewhat a facade. I rarely know what day it is. It’s even more rare that I can tell you what I’m doing two days from now.
This causes an interesting situation where I tend to overbook myself, to agree to things without really knowing what’s going on the day before or the day after, and to forget how many days it’s been since I’ve really rested.
It’s been 27 days since I’ve spent a day being lazy. I went into teaching in a summer program the week before we participated in our first bridal show. The following weekend we took the train to Santa Barbara, I went with my brothers to San Diego, and then spent a really long day in the sun wandering downtown. The weekend after that, Tanaya and I spent a long day of work and walking around, and followed it with an epic hike along the coast.
Sprinkled within the weeks of those adventures have been baseball games, dinners out, movies, hanging out with various people, and running errand after errand.
So, it’s no small wonder that at the completion of day 26, I wasn’t feeling so great. Simple tiredness, I told myself and sent myself to bed semi-early only to find that waking up yesterday was a horrific chore. Yet, I still pushed on. I had a fabulous day marred only slightly by the physical pain I was in.
Onto the 28th day (t0day) to find that waking up was beyond a horrific chore this morning. I didn’t even bother forcing myself out of bed until after 11. And at that point, I ran one quick errand and came home to sleep some more.
It’s funny because I feared that my exhaustion was due to the fact that I’m getting old. Oh, silly me.
Instead, I have learned a valuable lesson (again) about the necessity of slowing down or at least taking a break every 14 days or so.
And I laugh even as I write that because it wasn’t the first time, and probably won’t be the last.