I’m having one hell of an internal Monday morning debate: Do I go through the motions today? Or surrender to impulse and apply for a do-over?
My work week started at the un-Godly time of 2:30 this morning. My littlest baby girl woke me up with a timid tap to my elbow and a whispered, “Mommy I had an accident.”
Bless her little six year-old heart. I remember that walk of shame to my mom’s bedroom as a kid, so I try super hard not to snarl when I have to trudge myself out of bed to strip the sheets and somehow manage NOT to let my brain reengage in the process.
Usually I can make it back to bed and find my way to dreamland without too much effort. The trick is to keep the heavy fog of sleep hovering over my hibernating mind while I’m about my task.
Every now and then, though, a stray thought slips up under that fog and fires up my mental engine. From there, I’m screwed.
Guess what happened to me this go-round?
Yep. You guessed it. I was still up staring at the clock at 4:45, wrestling with everything from plot adjustments for my current manuscript to calorie expenditures for the previous day.
Oh, I finally made it back to sleep…forty minutes before my alarm went off. (Sandman is a sadistic bastard.)
The urge to take a PTO day was strong, but I resisted. One never knows when you might really need one of those precious paid-for eight hours. So I’m here now, discombobulated and out of sorts with a backup generator already sputtering for gas.
My inner drill sergeant has gone heavy melodrama. Picture one of those cheesy war movies from the seventies where the hero is caked in mud and urges his buddies to, “go on without him!”
My inner flower child is pulling regular tantrums to divert me from anything productive. So far, I’ve avoided three trips to Starbucks, one stop at Daylight Donuts and a stroll through a nearby Hallmark store—and it’s not even ten am. I’m afraid to leave my desk for fear I’ll end up on the other side of town at the mall for unsupervised shopping therapy.
What do you think? Which of my “halves” need the most fostering today? What do you do when responsibility and self-nurturing go to war and leave you strung out like a hung over-junkie?
BOBJune 17, 2013 at 7:15 pm
Unsupervised shopping, huh? Okay, well remember to sing along . . .
These are the people of Walmart;
Where we save money;
Only at Walmart!
RhennaJune 17, 2013 at 7:17 pm
Suzanne VinceJune 17, 2013 at 7:49 pm
Ug,what a way to start your Monday! Hope the week gets better from here.
As I get older, I usually opt for the self nurturing unless doing so will create a hardship for someone else.
kim clearyJune 18, 2013 at 2:45 am
I hope your week gets better! I’d opt for self nurturing too unless I really needed to meet an unmovable deadline. Take care … and I hope you avoid walmart for your unsupervised shopping therapy 😛
SusanJune 18, 2013 at 6:19 am
Grandma Reeves told me when I had my first baby that if I’d keep my eyes shut when I had to get up in the night for any reason, I’d be able to go back to sleep. Since she raised 7 kids and lived to tell the tale, I figured she knew what she was talking about. So I gave it a shot,
After stubbing my toe several times and walking into the wall once or twice, I gave up,
About that time, I decided I LOVED being up when everyone else in the house was asleep. Still do.
Power naps help. 🙂
Gretchen WingJune 18, 2013 at 8:25 am
I always used to long for an off-switch for my brain, which I imagined to be right at the base of my skull. Still looking for that little booger. Failing that–gotta go with a mix of all three personae: suck it up and greet the day, but then cave into a late afternoon nap and/or frappucino.
CJ BurrightJune 18, 2013 at 9:47 am
I’m weak, I’ll admit it. If I don’t get my sleep, I turn into a grumpy witch-zombie. Give into the potato chips and jammies in bed–you’ll feel a lot better. 🙂
Susan JaymesJune 18, 2013 at 6:58 pm
I’d go for the Starbucks. Of course the crash hours later might be worse than what you are feeling. I’ve been there. I hope you next night sleep is better.
Marianna HeuslerJune 20, 2013 at 10:27 am
Very cute blog! And who can’t identify? Wait until your tiny six year old is a teenager. Be prepared to be up every hour, until she is safely tucked in bed! And when she says she had an accident – the accident will probably be a smashed fender!
Embrace the Insanity | Rhenna MorganJanuary 17, 2014 at 9:47 am
[…] After my Monday meltdown, I let myself fall off of the regular routine in pretty much every area. I hopped on Facebook when I felt like it, worked out only twice (and without a death wish) and met friends for happy hour. […]