Time to Rest
I’m sure I speak for many of us when I say I’m tired. It’s been a long and extremely stressful winter; for some of us, it’s been traumatic. Social media is showing me memories from this time last year, when there was an outburst of online creativity and caring and memes. We poured our fear and anxious energy into action. We didn’t realize then just how long a marathon we were in for, did we? This weekend, I had four days off work in a row, for the first time since Christmas. (I’m Canadian, so we get Good Friday off, and some sectors also get the following Monday.) I was prepared to crash for two days. Which I did, and thoroughly enjoyed it. On Friday and Saturday, I lounged around in bed, finished a book (reading, not writing, alas), went for some walks, ordered pizza, and that was pretty much it. I was not prepared to crash for three days. But that happened anyway. On Sunday, my big accomplishment was dragging my own butt and my husband’s out to the backyard with a picnic blanket so we could enjoy the beautiful weather. On the fourth day, Monday, I ran around like a madwoman (I have a mental disorder, I can say that) to try and accomplish at least some of the things I’d hoped to catch up on…like housework and dealing with all the vegetables we had just optimistically had delivered Somehow it took me all afternoon to make carrot…