I keep saying that I am going to get back into the regular routine of things – writing, reading, and commenting on the regular – but life keeps getting completely out of control and I find that I have zero time to do anything (like tie my shoes!), let alone sink back into this wonderous blogosphere and get my rant and roll on.
So please forgive my absence – or as it has been of late, my hot and cold presence.
Please know that I am thinking about all of you, and am taking the time (whenever it comes up!) to take pleasure in all of your musings, insights, photographs, and updates.
I miss this place terribly, and am doing my very best to get back to a regular rhythm.
And until the time when I regain my blogger mojo, some snaps:
I slept right through the night until my alarm went off at six forty the next morning.
I think my body might be telling me something.
Now folks – I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, yammering on and on about how tired I am ALL THE TIME, and how I feel like a recommended serving of peanut butter spread much too thin across the English Muffin of life.
BUT I AM.
On Sunday night my husband turned to me and asked, “How many nights this week do you have nothing planned? And by nothing, I mean, no comedy, no volunteering, no training, no writing, and no hangouts.”
I sat there, struck dumb like a statue, my mouth hanging slightly ajar, like a broken garage door.
“Ummmm….” I said.
“One? If one at all?” He questioned me, exasperated.
(Said exasperation stemming from his concern for the current state of both my mental and physical health.)
Now, technically the answer was none (as I am in fact taking part in things every day this week) but I managed to fudge the numbers just enough so that I could somewhat confidently state:
“One. I have one night this week where I don’t have anything planned.”
“Oh yeah?” He asked. “Which night is that?”
“Friday,” I answered.
“Friday doesn’t count! It’s basically the weekend!”
Alas, I could not argue with this logic.
You see, I have this weird duality to me – part of me NEEDS to be constantly busy, to the point where I have activities and obligations pouring out of my ears.
I mean, I absolutely love every project and organization that I am involved with.
Too much time on my hands really does make me go all squirrely.
But on the other hand, I get to points in my life where I feel so utterly burned out that I start to feel as though I am operating on auto-pilot – flying through my days at light speed.
And if I don’t find a place to make an emergency landing I’ll run out of gas.
So now I turn to you my darling readers.
Do any of you have any tips or tricks for instilling balance in your life? Or do you too careen about at full speed, too enamoured with your passions to be able to operate at a more leisurely pace?
Do let me know.
Any advice you have will be truly appreciated.
And in the interim, I’ll be over here, cooling my jets. Before I go out in about, two hours.