This is painful.
I thought I could come up with some seriously fun and not so fun things about turning fifty,
but instead I find I am torturing myself with this activity.
Why is it torture?
I work Monday thru Thursday and am so tired I can't see straight some of those evenings.
So what's wrong with the rest of the week?
Because while some folks relax on the weekends, I feel the need to fill every minute.
I'm not even capable of reading a book unless it is a learning kind of one anymore.
I listen to audio books because it allows me to multi task and get multiple things done at once.
My weekend ends up the same way.
Oh, don't get me wrong.
I probably spend plenty of minutes with my bottom firmly attached to upholstery, but it is rarely idle unless someone is over here visiting.
Even then, I might be winding strips of fabric into rope or something equally nutty.
Not kidding. I made it to work Thursday with fabric strings on my scrubs.
What is with this urge to get everything done?
I remember a time when I felt a sense of urgency that life was going to be short.
The baby books were all updated.
All ducks were in a row ... more or less.
I went to a Mother's Camp around that time and found that I wasn't the only one feeling the urgency.
I don't think I've touched the baby books since then ... and the kids are all now grown.
Is it because the To Do List isn't born of necessity, but rather of want?
Notice I'm not reminding myself to hit the grocery store or the car wash.
Is it because my homebody crafty creative self likes to create just as much as she enjoys her work outside of home?
Because I did the not working thing for 3 months a few years back and realized that I get more done all the way around if I'm working.
And, face it, life is busy!
You would think this empty nest thing would afford all kinds of opportunity to sit back, put up the feet and just enjoy the quiet .. and feel rested.
To be perfectly honest (and I know my kids are reading this), there are days when I crave a minutes peace and quiet.
A day to just meander from one thing to another and do whatever I want.
And I get those days.
Then there is the need to have the house just hopping and full of life.
I need and love that too.
One child on Monday, another on Tuesday, a few more on Thursday, another on Friday ... and maybe all of them on Sunday.
That is good stuff.
I wouldn't trade it for all the coffee in Columbia.
And then some days I'm just so tired I want to cry.
I actually did cry at work on Wednesday I was so tired.
Thank goodness there weren't any patients there.
Take a nap! you say.
Yet another might say Go to bed earlier!
I do and I do. Some days.
Way back when the kids were little people and there wasn't time in life to accomplish my missions, I would add things to my mental When I'm Fifty List.
One day I looked around me.
My eyes lighted on my parents and I knew I was in trouble.
They were retired and busier than ever.
That was the day I realized that I had better get a move on things if I wanted to get them done.
The move has been on ever since then.
I'm starting to get a glimpse of why it might take a wee bit longer to get things done ...
and maybe hubby's bedtime of 9:30 isn't so crazy after all!