Why haven’t I learned my lesson?
Last Friday morning, whilst scrolling through my phone, I was thinking about what a crappy year a lot of people were having. 2022 seemed to have brought some terrible luck for some.
I then began to reflect on my 2022 and realised that a lot of pretty shit stuff happened in my life too. Why wasn’t I feeling miserable?
I thought more about this. There have been some extremely low times this year, but my ability to bounce back from these has reached a strength I never thought possible for me.
I am not trying to make out that I am some serene, zen, being; I still have my moments, but even how I view those are different.
When bad times come, I still get upset, I show my emotions, I shout, I scream, I cry for as long as I need to, but somehow, deep down, I am safe in the knowledge that things will get better and knowing that is like my lifeboat, something for me to swim towards when I am drowning in those choppy waters.
On Saturday, the husband and I went off to Broadstairs for the day, we’d not been before so had no idea what to expect.
As soon as we arrived, we knew we wanted to stay the night so, despite the fact we had not packed an overnight back, we manage to find a B&B that had had a cancellation and went off to explore.
It’s such a beautiful little place with some gorgeous beaches, we fell in love with it and it’s top of our list of places to move to once the boys are older. We sat in the Pavillion, drinking in the sun, went for more drinks in Neptune and a place called The Chapel, which was wine and books in one place. Heaven! Then on for a delicious steak dinner.
On Sunday, we woke up to seagulls squawking, and no battery on my phone but it did not dampen my love for the place. We got up and dressed and went off in search of some breakfast. We walked through the market and picked up some cheeses.
As we strolled along, I heard someone call my name. It was my friend Krissy, who was there for the day with her fiance and little boy. What are the chances? We had a little catch-up and then went off for our breakfast before we headed home for poor little Toby. I was surprised to find that I quite enjoyed being without a phone for a few hours
On the way home, the husband wanted to stop at some services, as we parked up, I saw a woman walking to her car, I thought I recognised her from somewhere, then I saw her husband behind her and it was an old friend, someone I grew up with in London, who I haven’t seen in about 25 years, I leapt out of the car and we had a lovely little catch up right there in the car park. Again, what are the chances?!
We got home, plonked ourselves in the garden, and I cooked a roast dinner.
On Monday, I had to get up earlier, even at 6 am it was stuffy and I was feeling groggy. I had hoped to have some energy for a little boogie in my living room, it would have to wait until later.
I hopped in my car to drive to Essex to get my hair done, thankful that my car, which doesn’t have air conditioning, wasn’t yet like an oven but that it would be on the drive home.
Sure enough, after getting my hair done and popping in to see my parents, I was back in the car driving home, not convinced that sitting in an oven would be hotter than sitting in my car.
The drive home seemed to have sapped any energy I may have had, the dancing would need to be delayed until I could control my eyelids. I’m sick of this heat already.
Although I still wake up early, I feel a bit more alive on Tuesday. It’s forecast to be even hotter today and I’m meeting my friend for lunch in London. I try getting as much of my to-do list done as possible, using the train journeys to do some writing.
When I get home I’m exhausted, this heat is sapping what little energy I have.
On Wednesday, Toby decides he wants me up, I don’t need to be up today and I felt like I needed more sleep, but he’s having none of it, so I eventually get up.
I have zero energy again! I know I need to exercise, but it’s too hot and I’m too tired. I’m annoyed with myself for coming up with excuses but I can’t seem to move from my chair so I just sit there feeling frustrated with myself and the fact that I can’t be bothered to do anything.
Despite the words of wisdom I have read and given to myself, the heat, my to-do list and lack of sleep boil up into a bubble of emotion that quickly bursts. There are tears, then a frantic tidying of the bedroom and the sanctuary, which has been sorely neglected and I get into a cool bath with Netflix on the iPad.
The cool bath does wonders, I feel fresh and much more awake. In the evening I pop round to my friend’s house and we have a little catch-up.
On Thursday, the inevitable happens. I wake up feeling like shit, the overwhelm I’ve put upon myself over the last few weeks has taken its toll and I now have the beginning of a cold.
I down tools for the day, give myself a manicure and pedicure and binge-watch things on my Netflix watchlist for pretty much the whole day.
I enjoyed it and it cemented the fact that I need to take regular downtime each week and not just wait until my body forces me to.
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