It’s been awhile since I’ve been in a multi-day funk. I’m not sure if I’m getting sick, or if I’m extra-hormonal this month, or if it’s a side effect of the medication I’m on right now, or if I’ve just got Spring Fever. Whatever’s causing it, I don’t like it.
Not only am I tired and headachy, but I just don’t give a shit. It’s hard to concentrate. On anything. I’m getting frustrated with things easily, too — my son, my work, my calendar and all its appointments, my dwindling PTO. At least I’m still going to my workouts over lunch, and I managed to repot the plants that the cat tried to kill yesterday. File those under responsibilities I don’t feel like I can shirk, I guess.
I can see myself from the outside, too: making poor food choices in hopes to boost my energy level and mood, knowing full well that a Diet Mountain Dew and a 75¢ goodie from the bottom row of the vending machine will only make things worse. Getting so tired at night that I don’t even care anymore and I stay up until 11pm instead of turning the lights out at 10 like I know I should.
If I didn’t have a needy three-year-old to wrangle, I’d be looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow, curling up under the covers with no alarm and no responsibilities for the day.
But I do. I have responsibilities. So, I can wish for a real day off all I want, but it’s not going to happen. I just have to push through and find something to jolt me out of this tired and disinterested mood I’ve been in. Or more likely, just fake it ’till I make it.
At the very least, maybe I can get my ass to bed at a reasonable hour tonight, so I can manage to avoid being a miserable prick to my family tomorrow.