These days, I can barely keep up.
Having said that I could handle more work at the office, I now have too much. The job itself is interesting but my brain is tired by the time I get home. More than tired. I watch writing challenges pass me by in blogland, make half-hearted attempts to start entries for them, but more often than not, I just don’t have it in me to finish whatever I start. I work on them bit by bit, but I just can’t will myself to do any more than I am.
As if the brain exhaustion part of the job wasn’t enough, I will soon be travelling to Geneva for a week – also for work. Now, Geneva is lovely and I’m looking forward to seeing it again, this time in the warm weather (last time it was a chilly, grey March). I’m even more excited because the trip is related to my favourite file at work, the one that keeps me going back for more.
It’s a lot to balance with all the home things, too: birthdays, soccer starting up (for the kid, not me), making dinners and lunches, gardening (ok, my husband does more of that these days than I do). Anyway, you know, the routine.
I’m not complaining. It sounds like I am and maybe I am a bit. But really it’s more that I’m explaining myself. I feel like my writing sounds half-assed. So if you were wondering, now you know why.
I hate that I can’t really write like I had been but I guess what did I expect, right? I mean, returning to work after 15 months off…at some point things were going to ramp up and the personal writing was going to suffer a bit.
But there are those great moments that re-energize me, inspire me, lift my spirits. Like the lovely moment I took for myself yesterday at lunch down by the river. I wrote a poem there, or half-wrote one. But, you know. It’s not in any state to post. Yet. Still, I wrote it.
And today on my way home, I saw my son playing in the park as I passed by. I didn’t say anything for a moment. Just perched on my bike in the cool sunshine and watched him kicking a ball around with two other kids. Running back and forth, screaming in delight, laughing. Unguarded. Unaware.
This was a breakthrough moment for him. For our area. Kids don’t play in parks anymore, or on sidewalks. It’s been something we’ve struggled with, the kidless neighbourhood we’ve found ourself in. But miraculously, this seems to be changing, just in the past two weeks.
The other day, two boys from around the corner started scootering up and down in front of our house. My son joined them and has since knocked on their door a few times to see if they’re free to play. And today, different kids, in the park no less.
It’s almost enough to make up for the fly-by-night writing.
At least it’s inspiring, even if it’s in a different kind of way.
So here I am, back to basics, back to the way I used to blog. It’s freeing. It’s stress management. It’s sharing with you how things have been going.
Thanks for listening.