It’s surprisingly hard to get back to some kind of routine after holidays and a year ending – so many one-of-a-kind items – from tax paperwork to getting parking stickers for the next term to all those doctor’s appointments which have been put off to seeing friends in town for only a few days.
I am ready for all that to be over, and get back to routine, any kind of routine. Even snow – which is predicted for this weekend.
I should be writing up a storm – instead of chasing down the meter reading on the solar panels.
Anyone else in the same slump?
PWCs (people with CFS) handle change very badly
We’re bad enough with things we do routinely, such as laying out today’s pills, and watering the plants.
But each new thing attempted requires the use of a scarce resource: good time (i.e., when the brain is on).
I normally reserve that time for writing, and have ‘FIGHT for the RIGHT to WRITE‘ where I can see it easily.
But this time of year – between the end of one and the slipping-into-routine beginning of the next year – is a constant barrage of exceptions.
EVERYTHING claws its way to the top of the priority list
We have a solar system. On the first of the month I get an email which reminds me to send in the meter reading so they can credit us with SRECs (solar credits – don’t ask me to stop and look up the acronym!) so that we will eventually get a small check for any excess energy we pour back into the grid. There was a $500 extra cost when we were required to pay for and install a new meter (the government wouldn’t take our reading of the old one) if we wanted it to wirelessly send the solar company the reading – and of course we said no thanks.
The idea is that, once a month on being reminded of the need to send this information, I will go down to the basement, read the meter, and, while down there, perform the cleaning of the system that involves pouring bleach into the pipes and the pump, which will otherwise grow algae.
Except that I’m now having to force myself to at least go down to the basement once a day, because moving is difficult, the heart rate goes up, and my chest hurts if I do stairs. And yes, I have an appointment to visit a cardiologist for reassurance/whatever already scheduled.
So it had to be done, now – and I cheated. I just got the number and emailed it in and didn’t do the maintenance part. Which means half of the task – and a trip to the basement out of no energy – is still pending.
I am probably not unique
Everyone has these things on their lists; everyone has more stuff to do at the end of the year and beginning of another.
But I’m drowning, my assistant hasn’t made it for a week (she’s sick, on top of the holidays), and there is no end in sight.
Why am I telling you any of this?
Because I normally blog – and I have 30-40 half done posts, none of which I seem to be able to finish.
Not being able to finish a blog post is new to me, and I’m scratching my head. I understand how writing doesn’t get done – I can’t focus if I know I’m going to be interrupted in 15 minutes – but I hadn’t realized how even blogging needs some coherence.
I’ve been worried about obvious mental deterioration, and then I realized this morning that I’m probably not unique, but I am getting older, and changes in habitation location are coming, as well as a whole slew of problems related to that, and that the world probably won’t come to an end if I don’t have my handicapped parking space set up before this Sunday (another task which took time this morning) but that it was wise of me to try calling on a working day (they assure me it’s in the works, but they were just off for eleven days).
I’m working on it
That’s my motto for everything.
I will get to it, whatever ‘it’ is. Eventually.
Routine will return.
I will be able to finish something (I’m almost ready to hit ‘post’).
And now I go to find the proposal from 2004 from the HVAC people that shows we paid for – and didn’t receive – a duct cleaning back then. Because I promised the lady I’d send it today. Because THEY shred their records older than ten years – and I never throw anything out.
Because $300 is not peanuts.
Happy New Year to all of my bemused readers (bemused at this odd post, not bemused themselves).
Stay warm (or cool, if you’re in the southern hemisphere). Breathe. Pray for the crazy lady.