I hadn't realized how much of a wanna-be recluse I had apparently become until lately. It used to be that the more I had to do the happier I was. I thrived on seeing how many things I could do, people I could talk to, places I could go, and things I could experience. No more. At least not for now. I have become overwhelmed--and I don't even have kids! ha! (All you parents can laugh at me, but please don't scold, judge or belittle.)
Take this coming Sunday for example: Get up; get ready; pick up my choir buddy; hit choir practice at 9:00; perform in Sacrament mtg; say closing prayer for Sacrament mtg; co-teach 14-15 yr old class right after Sacrament mtg; lead music in Relief Society and also do "practice song"; hit choir practice after Relief Society; drop off choir buddy; make a meal and then spontaneously combust. Ha?!
While this is an extreme example, it embodies the way I realize I frequently feel these days. Even on a work day I find I am exhausted by the end of my work day, my commute home and making dinner. My impulse is to become a slug at that point (about 7:30 or 8:00), but there is simply too much still to do. Dishes, weeds, laundry, dirty catboxes and hungry turtles mock me at every turn. Guilty confession: I find myself retreating behind more and more covers of more and more books in search of brief respites.
So my friends, if you are not hearing from me, now you know why. I have just gotten into a bit of an overwhelming slump. I'm sure to emerge again soon, as luckily these things never seem to last for long. I just need to get my second wind and then I'll be off and running all over again, I'm sure.
Behind my many diaphanous excuses is it obvious that I am really only tired?
Hugs,
Auty
