I am exhausted. I full extent of my exhaustion hit me just a few moments ago. I spotted the spelling error in the title of this post even as I wrote it and the effort of moving my cursor there and retyping seemed too much to bear. Today, I was multi tasking since morning. Attending to chores and meetings at the same time. I have spent the lunch hour cooking, cleaning the kitchen, getting the kids settled. Now, when I finally sat down at my desk to work, the pile of unread and unanswered emails seemed so intimidating that I moved away from them.
A few mindful meditation classes I have attended have recommended observing your thoughts as if you are an outsider. I try to listen to them. The first thought rising up in that my lower back is paining and I should ask my husband to get me a hot water bottle. I do that and push this thought aside, waiting for more of them to rise up from the depth of my consciousness. The exhaustion seems overwhelming. I would, if I could, put my head on a pillow and fall asleep. I can’t. Knowing that I have to hop on a conference call in a few minutes, the toddler would drop into my room any minute asking to be nursed to sleep and my older one needs to sit down and study. I acknowledge these task related thoughts and try to delve deeper. I am looking for something. Something specific. What, I ask myself. The answer begins to take shape.
I am waiting for my optimism. Last night, after a long harrowing work day, I messed up the eggs I was cooking for dinner. Distraught, I improvised and turned the mess into a wrap everyone loved eating. At that time, I had felt great. I felt that I have the ability to come on top of any situation life throws at me. I can cope, I can even turn adversity to opportunity.
Today, it seems like the universe was listening. It was tuned in to my momentary flare of misplaced optimism and decided to throw a bunch of difficulties at my face. Turn these to opportunities, it seems to be taunting today. I sigh, finish the last bit of my lunch and close my eyes. I breathe, deep and purposeful breaths, tuning out the sound of the fan, the neighbour’s TV and the pings from my corporate IM. I focus on the sounds of my kids laughing. They are stretching the lunch hour with a bit of play time, giggling together. Slowly, my spirits lift. Yes, I can do this, I tell myself. I can do this. Not because I have to, but because I want to. I chose to have a career and a family and I don’t want to be the woman who bitches about it all the time. I feel better and decide my next steps. I am going to put on my warpaint and go face the world. Today, it will be a red lipstick called Ruby Woo.