From Oct 28, 2008
It sounds so remedial, but it’s still amazing to me that how you feel is affected by so many variables. Maybe I’m just getting “old” in my ripe young age and therefore more sensitive to the things that make me feel bad.
Sleep is a great example. I have always said that I need, generally speaking, eight hours of sleep. This semester, I’ve been getting somewhere between six and seven hours. In the last two days, I’ve been getting about four hours of really shitty sleep.
It’s no wonder to anyone that today I felt baaaaad. Like sad, angry, irritated, lonely, needy kind of bad. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. I know you do, I am one.
I’ve begun to discover that there are certain triggers that push me into feeling bad like that– alcohol is a big one. Not eating right? Check, another. And not sleeping enough. Well, hell.
I know I’m doing a lot and conquering the world and what not. I know My Eyes Were Bigger Than My Stomach when I filled my plate… but I love my life. I’m doing exactly what I said I would do. I’m just, I dunno, exhausted while I’m doing it all. Which makes for a less overall happy Ash sort of functionality. And anything less than happy is, well, it’s not happy.
I’m taking inventory of everything in my daily life that is preventing me from sleeping.
Work is the biggest one. I spend two hours every day commuting to and from work. Then, I spend between seven and nine hours at work, depending on if I have class afterwards. If I have class, I spend another fifty minutes in the car getting to class, and then a little more than three hours at class, half an hour commuting back home… but it doesn’t end there. I spend an hour and a half taking care of the kids in the morning (making breakfast and lunch, getting them up, getting them dressed, getting them ready for school). Then I spend another two to three hours of helping them with homework and getting them showered and ready for bed. That leaves half an hour of not busting my ass to eat dinner– which my amazing wonderful honey makes for me– gourmet, nine times out of ten (thank you, love), one hour total to hang out with my guy (broken into ten six minute intervals), and five minutes to use the toilet in privacy, once a week. (wink)
*sigh* It’s a lot, and none of it is negotiable. Work, school, and the kids is part of what I desire, it’s what I’m doing, it’s what I want, and all three are taking their fair share of my attention. If I could really work it to the best of what would work for me, I would work from home, and have more time with my honey. And by more time with my honey, I mean, a few more hours a day. Yesh… that would work beautifully.
Here’s the problem with the job and working from home: it’s not going to happen. My managers won’t allow it. Even though I could just as easily do it here as I could at work. It’s just not going to happen as far as they’re concerned.
And I don’t want to find another job, that’s nearly a certainty. A) I love what I do, and I’m really, really good at it. B) I love the department that I work in, and get along perfectly with the other staff. C) I make excellent money, more than I’ve ever made. D) I work for doctors who are professors at the medical school I’m going to attend, and they encourage me to go where I am going. E) Medical school that I will be attending is on the same campus as work, so I have to be used to the drive by the time I get to medical school.
We’re not moving any time soon, either. My mom owns this house, is flexible with rent due dates, it’s relatively inexpensive to live here, we’re already putting money into the house to fix it up the way we want, and we have the awesomest most wonderful neighbors in the universe. And that ain’t no lie.
So.
As exhausted as I am with everything I do, I really, truly LOVE what my life is. I just don’t know how much more of this burning both ends of the candle thing I can do any more.
And, oh, look, here’s a pattern: I wrote Exhaustion Junkie in April.
Yep. I’m crazy.
