I'm catching my breath over the bank holiday weekend. There's a lot to be done - the garden's threatening to invade the Western World; the house is a tip; and there are some scary work deadlines looming over the next few weeks; and I don't care. I've caught up with some sleep and I've reminded my family what I look like and that's pretty much as far as it's going.
I've been overworking lately and it tells. What should just be the ordinary aches and pains of middle-aged life are more niggly than usual and all the usual allergies are kicking in with a vengeance. They're much of a muchness, the problem lies with my reactions to them. Waking up with a panic attack at quarter-past two in a morning isn't a good idea; especially when it was past half one before you get to sleep. Idiotic.
A couple of people I know have died recently. A great pity, they will be sadly missed. Another had been incommunicado lately and we wondered if we'd somehow upset them. It turned out that she was in a hospice: she didn't let anybody know because she "didn't want any fuss." It's difficult to be cross in the circumstances.
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9 comments:
oh, sugar, i so understand this feeling/these feelings...sometimes, it is just so overwhelming peace xoxox
(i just heard bad news about a friend and i can't even dial her number it scares me so. my selfish need to deceive myself astonishes me!)
Thanks Savannah.
These are other people's tragedies and I shouldn't try to appropriate them.
Hope your bad news turns out not to be too awful after all.
Nice to hear you saying "I don't care," Kev. That's where I seem to have got to.
Deadlines, pressure, "important" things. Very few of which actually matter, and even fewer do I find myself caring about any more.
I know the feeling all too well, Chris. I suspect it's being reflected in the other blog where I'm struggling to tell the stories properly (or at all) lately.
You know there is always a solid oak study carrel with your name on it (not to mention the gentlemen's facilities which rival those of the Philharmonic in Liverpool) over in now disturbingly sunny Sheboygan, M'sieur
But - what is 'middle age' Kevin?
No - I'm not trying to find out your age - but I often wonder how people perceive the phrase.
I don't think I've got there yet!
It's a right old sod, Kevin, this stress and overwork thing. I made myself very ill last year because of it and have vowed never to do it again. But I know at some point the perspective will shift and it will seem actually *sensible* to work and worry myself to a bad place. It does take a lot of strength of will to avoid.
I'm just struggling. Pop over and have some Tequila.
Sx
I'm broadband-knackered at the moment thanks to a well-known bearded gentleman's service providers, which is why I'm a bit quiet this week.
Thanks for the noises of support. I've twice made myself very ill indeed with overwork and I'm trying not to attempt the hat-trick.
The Major has known me a while now and will confirm that I've been middle-aged for quite some time. The good news is that I'll probably stay that way a while yet.
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