I took the month of May off.
I realize that if you click back one entry, it looks like I actually took the month of May plus the last eleven days of April off, which is true for blogging, but really, really not true for everything else. What you can’t see is that the last eleven days of April were one long, terrifying push to get all of my final papers written for school, do three people’s jobs on one person’s hours at work, and not kill anyone in my project groups.
That last one was actually more difficult than I should probably admit.
But all of my finals were turned in by May 1 (except for the group that could not get it together!!!). So . . . what happened the rest of the month?
I slept a lot. I read trashy fiction. I watched the entire first two seasons of Say Yes to the Dress on Netflix. I saw my therapist. I got more connected at the so-progressive-my-parents-will-probably-disown-me church I’ve been attending. I worked 30 hours a week. I went out with friends. I babysat.
Looking at that paragraph, May was fairly productive. But honestly, I spent May in survival mode. My apartment is a mess. Laundry is the only household chore I’ve done consistently in the last five weeks. I’ve eaten a lot of takeout and fast food. I’ve eaten a lot of yogurt and frozen dinners. I ate cereal out of Tupperware for a while. At this point, I think that every dish I own is dirty, and I haven’t really bothered to do anything about it.
I was also supposed to be looking for a second job this past month, planning that curriculum I’m supposed to write, and thinking about my thesis. Those things didn’t exactly happen, either.
But . . . today is June 1, which is the incredibly arbitrary deadline I gave myself to start acting like a real human being again. So this morning, I stripped my bed and ran a load of sheets and towels. I gathered up the trash to take out and started the long and somewhat disgusting process of loading the dishwasher. I have a list of jobs to apply for and some time set aside to work on my resume. I’m writing a blog.
I think the time off from real life was good for me. I think giving myself permission to collapse a little bit, to rest and recover from a whirlwind semester was a good thing. I’m a chronic over-scheduler, and sometimes I don’t recognize that I need a break.
It’s also exciting (in a sad, I’m-obviously-still-recovering kind of way) that I continued to function somewhat this month. I kept going to work. I always had clean clothes. I went out with friends. I didn’t hide in my apartment and refuse to get out of bed. Yes, I felt overwhelmed at the beginning of May, but I feel better now.
That’s a victory in itself.