I don’t think it would be so all-consuming if I didn’t work as much as I do, but I have devoted the bulk of my free time recently to picking up after the mess that work makes of life.
My exhaustion is palpable. I, who could not detect anything woo woo like ‘the energy in the room’ if it hit me in the face and broke my glasses, feel my exhaustion rolling off of me, like fog. I am perpetually sleep deprived, with a backlog of hours missed longer than the national park’s backlog of work orders. My tiredness has become a trait that my friends know me by– like being short or Jewish or someone whose foot is perpetually close to their mouth. Marne is always tired. Marne is always sleeping off something. Marne can’t go out because she can’t stand up any more or else work tomorrow will be that much worse. Marne can’t come out to play until she finishes her homework, which is sleeping another three hours.
So: a brief list of what I have been up to:
I sleep. Last sunday I came home from the farmer’s market, took a shower, ate some leftovers, watched two episodes of Ellen courtesy of youtube with one of my housemates, put my pajamas on, ate some applesauce, and went to sleep. It was 6pm. On Tuesday I was in bed by 7:30. The new rule is that Marne is in bed by 9pm, asleep by 9:30, no exceptions. Exit: my social life.
I clean. I put my dirty clothes in my laundry bag and wash my tupperwares I take my lunches to work in, I vacuum my floor and make my bed and try reallly, really hard to brush my teeth every day.
I cook and feed. I am trying to eat things that are not sugar, dairy, or wheat containing, because lately I have been feeling terrawful and I am beginning to believe my suspicion that it is not all my job’s fault. Secretly, I enjoy my job, but more about that probably never. Not eating meat and trying not to eat these things in itself is completely ridiculous and unsustainable. It is a fast and easy way to become obsessed with food, and I am halfway there. However, I am feeling more energous and this whole food thing spurred me to make hummus today, which I have been not doing for the past four months.
I go to a class on relationship skills once a week. I journal about my feelings. I go to massage therapy. I take hot baths and do yoga. I go to Jewishy things. I sit and do nothing. Nothing!
And there it is. There is my time. I have almost nothing left after this, a few hours on which to go on useless dates with matches courtesy of El Interweb.
This is all great and wonderful, and I am starting to feel pretty good physically and have more clarity mentally and folks who talk to me on the phone have been remarking that I sound especially ebullient. Before I go to work (in one minute), I would just like to state that what all of this means is that I am now as interesting as cement, which is to say, not very interesting at all. The sound of my own name makes me fall asleep… and I’m not that tired.
