Last week, I sat down on my computer and typed out a post about what it means to be busy, and how I stay so busy all the time. Then, the next morning, my in-real-life-friend and fellow-blogger Buckhead Betty posted about basically the same thing. This is not the first time we have posted similar things around the same time, and I figured she'd summed it up nicely for both of us.
Being busy is a choice we make, and to me it doesn't seem out of the ordinary to have plans, oh, every night of the week. For some people that might seem weird, and when you ask me how I do it, my response is usually somewhere between, "How do I do what?" and "I HAVE NO IDEA I'M SO BUSY I CAN'T THINK ABOUT IT!!!" Typically though, it's not busy to me. It's life!
But sometimes, life has had ENOUGH. I have spent the last 3 months going, going, going. Nonstop, without coming up for air, without so much as breathing fresh oxygen. I have done happy hours and volunteering and meetings and church and dinners with friends and babysitting and tennis matches and softball games and tennis practice and "relaxing" massages and hosted dinner parties and attended dinner parties AND AND AND. You get the idea.
This past weekend, I had more of the same planned. Cinco de Mayo festivities, a work dinner hosted by someone super important in the company, a softball game, a birthday party, etc. Thursday night didn't go exactly as planned, and then Friday got here. And I wanted to curl up in a ball under my desk and cry, and sleep, and cry some more. I went to the work dinner, and promptly went home afterwards, crawled under my covers, and slept a glorious 10 hours. I went about my Saturday running errands, making lists in my head, forgetting what was on the lists...you know, normal Saturday. I headed out to an early dinner get together. I prepared a salad.
And after the salad was prepared, I sat on my kitchen floor and proclaimed that I was tired. Really tired. Really, really tired. And then I got up, I put on my big girl pants, and I went to my dinner. And after that, I went out for my friends birthday. But you know what? I had 2 beers at the dinner, and 1/2 a beer at the birthday party, because my body said NO MA'AM. My body had finally had enough. I knew I had hit my wall, figuratively speaking of course, because remember, I only had 2.5 beers. I bailed on my friends that night and I went home and I slept. And on Sunday, I did more fun things, and Sunday night, I slept. I cancelled a phone date with a girlfriend, I got comfy on my couch, and I rested. It was what my body was demanding.
So, the whole point of me telling you this is that when your body really needs it, you will be forced to slow down. I started this out by saying I have been going non-stop for the past 3 months. I mean, just look at my blog posts. I either haven't had time to post, or I've posted about all the things I am doing. Neither one screams "balance." But I have been caught up in a new job, new friends from said job, new friends from other aspects of life, and that old FOMO-friend peeking through, and I couldn't bear to say no to any of it.
So to those of you who think I can do it all...newsflash! I can't! But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. I'm taking this week easy. I have a friend coming into town this weekend, and I'm really hoping that she'll feel okay about just hanging out. That doesn't mean we can't go out to places where other people are getting wild and crazy but...it likely will not be me. My body is still in break-mode. But hey, I have the best friends in the world so I have a feeling she'll understand.
I hope you do too. We all need a break sometime, and I'm taking mine. Holla!