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A Banner Day

I woke up at 6:30 this morning and am writing this post at 9 p.m. In between those times, the only times I sat down were riding in the car and for a 10-minute phone call with Hart. And I felt good all day.

I’m visiting my sister and her family this week. She has been likened to a hurricane. This combined with her kids’ (who are seven, nine and 11) energy can be overwhelming even on the best days. Not only did I take it in stride today, I kept up with them.

My pain level has been so low and my energy so high today that I didn’t think to worry about overdoing it. Just now, looking at previous posts that have mentioned my sister, I came across this from last summer:

. . . I realized just how counterproductive it was to push myself. (OK, I’ve realized this a thousand times already, but it’s a revelation every time.) I had made myself feel worse than when I started and I had no energy for the rest of the day.

. . . And it reminded me again of the lesson I should have learned by now. Don’t push it. It always backfires. Always.

There it is in writing — I know I should know better. The temptation to squeeze a little bit more fun into a good day is irresistible.

Now I’m going to do my best to be sure I don’t pay interest on the time I took today. The kids don’t have school tomorrow so I can sleep in and take it easy in the morning. I even have a new pillow so maybe my neck won’t ache in the night.

I so desperately want to prove last summer’s proclamation wrong.

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Walking the Tightrope

I have errands to run. I’m wiped out a little headachy. Perhaps that’s because I have run errands, cleaned, gardened, painted and sanded in the last three days. But I’ve also read, talked on the phone and watched baseball, which I thought would count toward staving off exhaustion.

No matter how well I think I ration my energy, I keep falling off the tightrope. Last week was as busy as this week, except that I didn’t rest at all. Last Wednesday I was drained and spent most of the day reading. Thursday I had a killer headache. I thought I did better this week, but the results are the same.

There are all sorts of metaphors for not depleting oneself (energy units, points, credits, spoons, marbles, dollars). These are great guiding principles; it’s putting them into practice that’s tough. I can list everything I do and try to assign worth to each one, but where do those values come from?

Will going to Macy’s, the appliance store (still looking for a range that fits), and the natural foods store have equal costs? Should I take fluorescent lighting and my expected level of frustration into account? Is the value of stopping at the tea shop on the way home positive or negative?

Even though I’m a Libra, balance has always eluded me. When it’s baked goods and multiple cappuccinos in one day, this isn’t too bad. When it’s my body, pain and happiness, I need to exchange the net under the tightrope for a trampoline.