I’m having one of those mornings where I sit, clutching my cup of tea, reading my email and other people’s blogs, trying to get up the motivation to do one of the following:
a) reply to my emails
b) actually write something
c) do anything at all
My cleaning lady is due to arrive in a couple of hours, and if I don’t start picking some stuff up she is not going to be able to fight her way through the clutter. (Yes, I do have a cleaning lady. You can be a housewife and still get outside help. It is allowed – definitely.)
I don’t know if it is because we were away for longer this time or if I was just tired to start with, but for some reason my jet lag is clinging to me with a tenacity I find quite disturbing. I’ve even been napping this week – something I rarely, if ever, do. I’m not someone who likes to nap; frankly the whole idea of it makes me uncomfortable. It’s kind of like ditching school; it somehow feels like I’m being naughty, and not in a good way.
The lack of sunshine might not be helping either. What the devil has happened to the weather? Most of the world seems to be having too much rain – except for those bits that are experiencing drought. We really do seem to have created a terrible imbalance in our climate – but that is a discussion for another day. Meanwhile, the birds stare at me reproachfully from outside my window, picking temperamentally over the now very wet birdseed I put out between showers yesterday. It’s like they somehow think it is my fault.
Speaking of birds, I’ve got a serious case of empty nest syndrome with my son away at a week-long residential drama workshop this week. On one hand I am loving having some quality time with my husband, and on the other I am beginning to panic. It’s not that a week is a long time – although I miss my son I’m not in the least bit upset he is away. I am pleased he is enjoying himself (and frankly so am I). It’s just that it is making me think about the fact that it is only a couple of years now until he will probably actually leave the nest. On one hand that is an exciting new dimension to my life, giving me more freedom to pursue my own dreams. On the other, it’s quite terrifying. After all, I’ve spent most of the last sixteen years being a stay-at-home mum – and while I’ll still be a housewife after he has left, a whole dimension of my role will have disappeared. There’s an identity crisis just waiting to happen.
In the middle of all this I am trying to make up for two weeks of absolutely amazing food on our holiday. Everyone I know swears I have not put on an ounce, but, however kind they may be, they are not the ones doing up my jeans in the morning! So I’ve been working out like crazy, going to the gym and walking in addition to my usual personal training, yoga and Pilates. It’s exhausting.
Let’s see, so far now I’ve read my word for the day from dictionary.com, booked theatre tickets to Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Theatre Royal Haymarket in September and caught up with the latest entries on all the blogs I like to read.
That, my friends, is absolutely enough procrastination on my part. I’m off to actually do some actual work now. Have a wonderful weekend!