Friday, August 19, 2005


I am so tired. The daily grind is grinding away at my energy reserves the way a new, ill-fitting show rubs away at your tender foot, leaving a big, raw sore after one day of wearing them. I enjoy my job, I enjoy cute new shoes, but this is ridiculous. I feel happy, motivated, and good about seeing people and doing things, I’m just doing so in a zombie-like state. Maybe with a tad more emotion than the undead.

Let me see if I can describe it more precisely: It’s not the kind of tired like after you have a baby and can’t find three consecutive hours of sleep to rub together for 4 months which leaves you unable to remember simple words much less put together whole sentences, leaving you feeling like the biggest moron on the planet and making you wonder if it’ll be like this forever or if you’ll regain some modicum of your past intelligence which wasn’t Einstein-genius-level but also wasn’t this blithering idiot which you now resemble more than you’d like to admit. Then you wonder and worry about how in the world you’ll ever teach your child all those things you planned to teach her before you got stupid! No, not like that.

It’s more like the kind of tired where you hover a few notches down from full awareness and a few notches above complete obliviousness. It is a feeling that is similar to taking a drug which bathed your head in a San Francisco, pea soup-type fog and so even though you can think pretty well, it’s without any kind of reference point so you feel like you’re constantly forgetting something.

My body and mind are both tired, but even then I find my mind running through everything I must remember to accomplish. I keep lists, but this doesn’t stop me from thinking of more things at inconvenient times like when I’m in bed ready to go to sleep. At that point I don’t want to delay the sleep from starting by getting up and writing the shit down. No, I’d rather lie in bed and keep myself awake by thinking about how I must remember to do this thing that is so awfully important to remember but I’ll-be-go-fuck-me if I’ll get up and go write it down!

My willfull mind plays chicken with sleep. And like a two-year-old, my mind does not like to be controlled. It has, well, a mind of its own! I’m so tired, I thought that sounded clever.

I am leaving for vacation early Sunday morning. I’m going off by myself to let my molecules unwind and clear my head. It's time for myself to think, work through whatever I need to work through, or might need to think about because I don't have time to do that while at home. I'm taking my journal so I can write, and notes from my counseling sessions so I can reread them if I want, and just let it all sink in. I've learned and changed so much in the past 8 months or so since I started therapy with a competent therapist. I've also gone through a major transformation and I want time to let myself relax into who I am now. I want to come home rested, thinking clearly, and ready to get married. (Clarification: I am ready to get married now, I'm just very, very tired and running behind. I want to be ready to get married, but without the tired.)

There is so much to do before I leave. Work is crazy busy because, like I said, I’m going on vacation so everything must get done before then. I have to pack for myself, and pack OC to go stay with her grandparents. I have to do laundry, run errands, drop my key off at my friend’s house so she can take care of the kitties and get the mail, and about 40 kazillion other things before I can go relax for 5 days with no one to take care of and no place to be. While on vacation I plan to sleep, eat, sleep, walk, sleep, bike, sleep, read, sleep.

If only my mind would cooperate.

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