I spent the last week sick, knitting and binge watching 13 Reasons Why and Sneaky Pete. Which is to say, I spent the last week feeling lowly and unproductive. And guilty I was unproductive. And defensive that I felt guilty I was unproductive. And telling myself it’s OK, dammit, to be unproductive every now and then. And productivity doesn’t define my self worth! Except, of course, it obviously does because I spent the whole week in the cycle of guilt followed by defensiveness followed by failed attempts at giving myself grace. All in all, the whole week looked a lot like defiant laziness bolstered and excused by a hacking cough and the inability to walk up the stairs without stopping halfway to catch my breath.
It was relaxing.
I knitted a whole hat, though, so there’s that. <– PRODUCTIVITY!
And if I’m another week behind on All the Other Things? It’s probably OK. I mean, if we look at it mathematically, I’ve been a parent for what? 18.5 years? So that puts me 962 weeks behind. Add one more week to that, and I’m only 0.001% further behind than I was before. Statistically insignificant. This is why math is important, friends. Because without math, we would not know things like this.
Tomorrow, Greg and I are off to visit Abby as she finishes up her first year of college. We’ll be packing her stuff and helping her look for an apartment for next year with, you know, money we don’t have. I’m strangely fine with this; Money We Don’t Have appears to be how we fund college for the Woolsey kids. And also how we fund college in America. Millions of people do it. It’s practically patriotic. ‘MURICA! Right? Right. And we’re not exactly feeling sorry for ourselves, while we suffer in Hawaii for the week. What’s not to love? Sunshine, surf, sand. God knows we need the break and the respite. We’re tired, man. It would be genuinely perfect if I didn’t have to bring my brain along. My brain, though, guys. My brain is positive, as always, that our plane will go down in the Pacific in a fiery crash, and we’ll leave our littles orphaned. I’d tell my brain to shut up, but she doesn’t follow directions very well, and, frankly, she gets pissy and defiantly louder when I say things like that. Instead, I’ll follow my tried and true travel preparation method over the next 24 hours — a chattering brain giving me the worst, most horrific scenarios possible while I shove my fear deep down inside except when it leaks out as anger at Greg. Good news is, my brain calms down when exposed to sunlight, so she and I should be just fine very soon. I mean, if we don’t die in the fiery crash.
All of this to say, friends, I’ve missed you and hope to be back in this space more soon.
Love to you and yours,
P.S. ONE OF THE THINGS I DIDN’T DO this month was tell you the April BOOK for our Escapist Book Club. This is a serious bummer because I actually CHOSE a book at the end of March. I just didn’t tell you that. Therefore, let’s make this our April/May book…
The Queen of Tearling by Erika Johansen
P.P.S. I have a Magic in the Mess Writing Retreat coming up in just 2 weeks! If you’re interested in discounts on a last-minute spot, do let me know; we have a few openings left! This retreat is perfect for beginning writers as well as writers hoping to hone their craft. Plus the location, food, and especially welcoming community of friends are AMAZING. I’d love to see you there.
4 responses to “Updates…Plus the Mathematics of Being Behind on All the Things”
Well let me know if you ever figure out how to leave your brain at home because that is the most brilliant idea I have ever heard. I would pay big money for that!
Yes, yes we need a picture of the hat!
Also, what helps me most is telling myself “I see you !” (Catching myself in the act of…) when my brain tries to tell me about all kinds of worst case scenario’s … We’re so good at this it’s scary, but maybe the “mom is watching” trick can help you too?
Waving to you and all our friends in and out of the dark
One thought on this, the images of the fiery plane crash. I’ve been listening to Brene Brown’s “Daring Greatly” and she talks about “Foreboding Joy” – it’s a protection against feeling the vulnerability of loss that “might” come. Talk about an AHA moment.
Not sure if that will help you, but it’s a good book and it helped me (at least) and I hope it will help you, to realize we aren’t alone in these horrible mental images. Her way of guarding against it was to be thankful in the moment, such as “wow, it’s so neat to be with someone I love” vs “OH crap I’m happy so therefore something horrible must be looming”.
When you were knitting, you looked very relaxed and peaceful. Spending a week mastering a new skill that can bring you that is time well-spent. You once said you wish you’d been kinder to the person you were before you lost weight because she was the one who did the hard work. Same thing applies to knitting, maybe?
We need a picture of you in the hat.