Ever since the move, I’ve felt rudderless. Isn’t that curious? I mean, sure, moving is stressful and disorienting and all that, but this is different. This is drifting, a weird sensation of being at loose ends.
Take last night, I’m so far off my game I turned to liquor, which is way out of character. I’m not opposed to drinking, mind you, it just doesn’t occur to me. And that’s what has me baffled; where did the idea come from? I can’t blame the weather. Yet. I wasn’t celebrating or grieving, either. I wasn’t in pain. I wasn’t panicky. I was having an ordinary, run-of-the-mill evening. Except for chugging hot toddies.
Wait, though, it gets worse.
This afternoon, in broad daylight, I took a nap. I don’t take naps. I go to the library or Starbucks, I work on my computer or read a book, ride my bike, take a walk, I do things. I don’t nap. This isn’t normal. This is scary and I’ve started thinking maybe, just maybe, I’m surrendering to age. Then I think, oh, crap, this can’t be happening. I don’t surrender. Ever. To anything. I soldier on to the bitter, and usually painful, end.
But I do feel old. And tired. Sore, too — everything aches, shoulders to ankles. So I’m going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and attribute the various anomalies to the moving process. Packing box after box of books and dishes and clothing is hard labor. The unpacking is no day in the park, either. But schlepping them hither and yon is flat-out back-breaking. I think I’m simply worn out.
Plus, I’m finally starting to unclench after four years of unrelenting noise and disruption. So I’ve come up with a strict regimen for the next few weeks: breathe, drink hot toddies, nap, read, watch movies, and eat. In other words, be a slug.
Now, even though I intend to continue posting regularly, I’m so flipping flighty I can’t guarantee anything. I know I’ll be back with Thanksgiving wishes, though. Gobble. Gobble.
copyright © 2016 little ittys
Maybe you are in a fallow phase. If so, thank the gods as they plumb the depths of your creative unconscious while you lounge around pampering yourself.
Oh wait. I just ready about your caffeine withdraw.
Never mind 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heh heh, I got a new coffee maker, so I’m good. You know what’s missing now? The urge to flee from the noise. Suddenly, I’m content to sit around and do nothing. I need a new motivator. Any ideas?
LikeLike
I could give you lots of ideas, but I’d love to see what comes out of your own self if you sit and wait for it. (In the mean time just keep recycling those oldies but goodies – they’re new to me!)
p.s. The way I “wait” is to keep doing other things as the urge comes like reading, wandering around galleries, museums, malls, parks, people watching, people watching, people watching, people watching, people watching. Trust me. You will be motivated.
LikeLike
You know what? Maybe it’s finally time to start thinking bigger. Hmm, I wonder …
LikeLike
Uh-oh 😱
LikeLiked by 1 person
heh, exactly. Run for your life! :o\
LikeLike
Ah, caffeine. I was going to suggest you might be sickening for something. Caffeine’s easier to fix.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As a hypochondriac, illness lurks behind everything. It’s a relief when I’m wrong and, as you said, caffeine is a simple (perfectly enjoyable) fix. Yay!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Enjoy your decompression. Gotta recharge those batteries from time to time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, um, turns out it was actually caffeine withdrawal. My coffeemaker died last week, so after I had a giant coffee tonight, shazam, instant transformation.
Oy. That should have been my first thought :o/
LikeLike