I’m so tired. Madeline Kahn said it much more melodically as Lili von Schtupp in “Blazing Saddles,” but all I can do is say it outright.
I’d planned to stay in New York City (at a hostel, of course) for several days after SaveUp 2011. But I cut the trip short when I realized that I was dangerously tired.
Can’t-remember-things tired. Bumping-into-stuff tired. Tired past the point where sleep rests me. My brain feels like a glacier: cold and sluggish and with chunks calving off.
Lately I’ve felt unable to do what I consider good work on Surviving and Thriving. It’s taken everything I’ve got just to meet deadlines for the other three sites for which I write.
In fact, some days I feel like crying when I sit down at the computer. Not a good sign.
I’m burned out. I need to figure out how to rest, play and even read for fun sometimes, instead of working what feels like 24/7.
This is particularly frustrating because it’s happening just as I’m getting more opportunities: syndication on Money Talks News, staff-writer post at Get Rich Slowly and the chance to write for DailyWorth. All are great ways to attract new readers here at Surviving and Thriving.
But if I don’t have good stuff, people who drift over to take a look won’t bother to come back. And lately I’ve been too exhausted and preoccupied to write much that’s really readable.
When your body says “Enough!”
Understand: The fatigue is largely a result of choices I’ve made. I chose to go back to school. I chose to keep the apartment-management job longer than I probably should have. I chose to travel a lot in the past two years. I chose to attend four conferences (and speak at two of them) since August.
For about six years I’ve been going at a dead run. Now my brain and my body are saying, “Stop!”
Thus I’m planning to take a couple of months off from travel. Well, as soon as I get back from my long trip to Anchorage, from the third week in November until early January. That journey was already planned, the ticket is already bought, and I’m looking forward both to Christmas with my niece and her boys and the Talkeetna Bachelors Auction and Wilderness Woman Competition.
But when I get home, I will spend at least a couple of months in Seattle. For the first time in almost two years I won’t be putting out fires preparatory to jumping on another plane. I won’t be trying to do interviews and write in challenging work conditions, or staying up until 3 a.m. writing because I spent so much time visiting relatives and friends.
I need to get my groove back. As in, “excited about writing again.” It wouldn’t hurt me to get back in the pool, either.
Readers: Ever struggled against admitting fatigue, as though it were the same as admitting defeat? How did you learn to make smarter choices?