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If you want to find me, I’ll be on my couch

Life is coming at me fast and furiously. I feel like waves are constantly crashing over my head and I’m swimming down instead of up.

X is Me (waves wildly!)

X is Me (waves wildly!)

My workday isn’t as long as it’s been recently, but it’s jam-packed from the time I walk in the door to the time I shut my computer down. And it doesn’t stop when I get home. In addition to the never-ending piles of laundry that need to be washed, dried, folded (lather, rinse, repeat), there’s grocery shopping, cleaning, catching up on the piles of mail that have overtaken our dining room table. (I know, cry me a river. We all have to do it). I barely have time to walk the dog—forget about trying to get to the gym. And I don’t have nearly enough time to take care of some of the major things around the house—like digging out the plants I let die in the yard and re-seeding sections of the lawn that are just dirt.

Help me! I'm dying!

Help me! I'm dying!

I’m tired and on overload.

I used to use weekends to catch up and relax. But lately? Weekends are my personal hell.

Weekends are supposed to be relaxing. They’re supposed to be fun. Weekends should be spontaneous. Do I want to nap right now? Why yes I do. Do I want to catch up on Grey’s Anatomy because I didn’t have time during the week? Sure, why not. I should be allowed to lie around in my PJs all day on Sunday if I want to, or find a spot on the couch and stay there, making my way through my stack of unread books so tall I can use it as a nightstand.

But there are too many other things we need to do. Julie the Cruise Director usually has every minute of every day planned, booked, scheduled, promised and committed. Sadly, I’m getting as bad as he is. In addition to the work commitments we have to honor, there are family events, dog shows, friends that we try not to neglect. But I think we’re neglecting ourselves. We’ve been away from home the past three or four weekends—sometimes together, mostly apart. He went to D.C. I had a dog show in San Diego. I had to go to my parents’ a couple of hours away while he went to a work thing an hour in the other direction.

I’m so exhausted that Sunday night I actually dropped off and fell asleep at 8:30 p.m. and slept for 12 hours. 12 hours! And I didn’t feel any better after all of that.

So I’m going on strike.

We have some family coming this weekend, but for the most part they’re pretty low-maintenance. They are comfortable making themselves at home, which is great because I can sleep in and relax. I’m going to set up shop in my spot on the couch and I plan to stay there most of the weekend. I may move to the bedroom to change things up, but I refuse to go somewhere I don’t want to be or do something I don’t feel like doing.

And the next weekend? I’m going to do even less. I’m not budging. I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not making plans. I actually had to schedule a weekend of No Plans in both of our calendars. If you want to spend time with me, pull up some couch and stay awhile. And bring martinis.

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One Response

  1. I’m thinking Julie the Cruise Director needs to go spend a couple weekends with Gopher and let you recuperate in one of those lounge chairs on the deck. 🙂

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