the difficulty of picking just one thing

I know I sound like a broken record, going on all the time about how tired I am. But I'm really tired. It seems unfair, really, given that it's only the beginning of the year and I've recently had time off.

I'm very blessed to be working with people who understand and who urge me to take it slow. I do still feel guilty when I have to work at home, even though it's perfectly legitimate! Maybe it just doesn't feel like I'm working as hard when I'm lying on the couch with my laptop as opposed to sitting up at a desk, even if I'm doing the exact same work. But anyway, I'm glad they understand that sometimes I just can't drive to the office.

Tuesday was a bit scary. I had to go up to Cooranbong to man the SU resources table at a conference. It's only one hour and 45 mins drive from home, not a big deal at all. I left at 6:30am, had to pull over at Berowra for 10 mins and then again at the F3 Maccas. I intended to just stretch my legs, but I didn't even get out of the car. Next thing I knew, I was waking up 20 minutes later. The rest of the day just felt like stumbling through a fog. I was supposed to drive up again yesterday and just couldn't do it. Thankfully the world didn't end, everyone understood, and I slept half the day.

I'm going to reinstitute the one-thing-per-day rule again. Maybe just for a while. I still hate that my body doesn't let me pack a day and night full of activity. I say yes to things, because there are so many wonderful things to say yes to. So it's not even like I'm trying to wriggle out of commitments that I don't want to fulfill. I can't even do the things I want to do sometimes, which is disappointing.

So this weekend is the Australia Day long weekend. I realised I was quite pleased because it meant there was no Big Thing to do at church as there is on Christmas and Easter holidays! But that doesn't mean it's going to be quiet. I'm going to see Neil Gaiman tomorrow night after work, the Secret River on Saturday, church (incl music) on Sunday, Rog's 50th birthday (incl music) on Monday. All great things and none especially taxing. Yet it starts adding up...

I was supposed to see the Hobbit with Karen on Saturday too, and go to dinner at George's on Monday, both wonderful things...and yet I started to feel panicky thinking about a weekend with something on most days and nights. Sadly I declined the movie and probably dinner too, sad to not spend time with my girlfriends, but knowing they understand (indeed, they are ones who counsel me to say no to things and rest more often!). But actually, I'm seeing Neil with Karen (and Guan), and the Secret River with George (and mum) so I won't be missing out on them altogether! But it's hard to say no to good things, especially when you feel like it's for no good reason (even though of course looking after yourself is a very good reason).

I said to T at work that there must be people in the world who wake up in the morning feeling good and look forward to what the day has in store. She said, almost apologetically, "I do." I would just love to wake up, full of energy and without being distracted by how I physically feel. But I guess God has made me this way for a reason, and I know he is glorifying himself through me by changing me and teaching me to persevere. Like a zombie.

Zombies are very persistent!

The day after

I feel sick and sad. This always happens after conferences, or shows, but this time seems worse than the others. My entire body is aching - I'm just one big ache - but no matter what I do I can't get comfortable. I'm almost too tired to go to sleep, if that makes sense.

Last night I fell asleep the wrong way round on my bed - with my head down the foot of the bed. I have no idea how I got into that position, but it was more comfortable than sleeping the right way round for some reason. The only problem was that it meant I kicked the glass of water on my bedside table over at about 3am. Then at about 5.30am I woke to a weird buzzing noise - the mobile that had been handed in to lost property was in my bag and of course it had a vibrating alarm set for 5.30am. Of course! So I facebooked for a while and pottered around before driving mum into the city for work, and then going to work myself.

I had planned for a short day but ended up staying til 5.00. I had lunch with Karen and Ben at the Sinma Laksa House across the road, which was delicious (one of the few places in Sydney I've been to that feels just like being in Malaysia). Good to chat to the two of them; I realise that although I am fond of him, I don't actually know Ben very well. Must remedy that.

The office was quiet as Mark, Howard and Jess are all away (or in and out) on NTE mission. So it was kind of nice to just tidy things up a bit. I got absorbed in putting together a DVD of all the good photos I'd taken at NTE and before I knew it, it was 5.00 and even Guan was going home before me! (this is a rarity)

I've been feeling listless and kind of washed out ever since I got home. I know I'm just tired, but I just can't shake it. And the humidity doesn't help either. But I am glad to be at home and able to just blob around on the couch with my laptop, and not to have to talk to people, and not to have to run over to the dining hall to avoid the crush, and not to have to deal with daily dramas (although I did learn today that Snowy's van, containing five peoples' luggage, got stolen during the last session! UNSW people had to turn around and come back to pick people up and last we heard, Snowy was still in Canberra waiting to deal with the police. Also the people at the Canberra Theatre knocked over a guitar stand and damaged some of the guitars after the last session, so now there's an impending insurance claim...you'd think by the end of the conference nothing else could go wrong...).

Oh! And another exciting thing that happened today was that the real estate agent said I could have a kitten! Heath and Simone have one they needed to find a home for, so come Sunday I'll have my very own 6 week-old boy kitten! Here he is being cuddled by Sim:

Mum's doing really well. She's able to get out of bed and slowly shuffle out of her room and back. She had a shower today, which made her feel a million times better. I helped her in the shower; it's funny how you can't imagine doing certain things for another person, like helping them shower, but when the time comes it just seems logical and normal. I guess it helps that mum and I have always been so close there are few things we wouldn't do for one another, and we can anticipate what the other person needs.

She told me I could be a nurse. I'm not sure that's something I could countenance; it's one thing doing it for someone you love, but I don't know how I would manage with strangers. Perhaps that explains the rough and no-nonsense attitude you can get from some nurses. Having said that, though, the staff at Prince of Wales Private have been lovely.

Mum goes to St Luke's Darlinghurst for her rehab tomorrow. She's nervous again, I guess about whether she'll be sharing a room with someone, whether the staff will be gentle or boss her around, whether she can cope with the exercises and everything. I know she will be fine.

I'm still tired and emotional. Not much has changed on that score. I have a lot of work to do and am chipping away at it, but I just want to lie down in a dark room on a soft bed for a week. I find my patience is thinning and my snapping point is getting closer all the time. I get cranky very quickly, and I'm starting not to care what people think and whether I'm being kind or not.

For example, I cancelled my training session at the gym this afternoon and the trainer was a bit snippy with me. When i said my mother was in hospital, she grudgingly said, "Why's she in hospital?" but wasn't interested in the answer (it only strengthened my resolve to cancel my sessions with her and train on my own). Likewise, I took work home today instead of staying in the office and my boss seemed a little surprised, saying "Why, can't you do it here?" No, I can't. I'm finding it harder than usual to get things done at work because my concentration levels are so shot that the slightest interruption (of which there are many in any given day at the office) will just derail me entirely.

It's very ungracious, but I feel like just wailing "my grandma died and my mum's in hospital, just leave me alone!!!"

But I can't do that. I'm not the type who falls apart, the damsel in distress who has a nervous breakdown and everyone runs around and picks up the pieces. I'm the type who keeps on keeping on, who turns up and keeps bouncing from pillar to post, trying to do what needs to be done without losing it completely, feeling guilty when I take time for myself and wondering why I'm so tired all the time. And then, if the facade cracks just a bit, and I snap, or cry, or give a terse response, people are shocked and say, "What's up with her?"

Wah. It's all about me, isn't it? Wah. Maybe I need to start seeing a counsellor again.

Bone. Weary.

I haven't been this exhausted for a long time. I look in the mirror and I can see it etched into my face, under my eyes; I don't even need people to tell me how tired I look to know that my appearance matches my internal state.

Mum's being the usual trooper. The surgeon says she is doing really well, and she's been up and out of bed a couple of times. She is still really tired though, and I got a good look at her leg while the nurse was trying to remove an anesthetic line from the knee. She's very bruised and obviously has a large wound where they cut, but it isn't that much more swollen than it was before the surgery (which shows how bad it was before!).

Lots of people have visited and called and sent flowers, which is lovely. She's given me some to take to work and have at home, and they're very cheerful.

I just want to cry though, from sheer tiredness. And I feel bad being so strung out when mum's the one in hospital! But it's been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster the last few days, and I am just finding it really hard to wind down properly. I should be in bed really, but I just keep roaming around, feeling aimless and too weary to actually stop, paradoxical though that seems.

I might lie down and read some Terry Pratchett; that should be restful enough.

not drowning, waving...just

I can't shake this tired melancholy.

Work's been busy. Not insanely, frenetically busy, but relentlessly pressurised. I feel like I really need a holiday but that's not going to happen until Christmas time. I will be certainly enjoying those couple of weeks when they finally arrive! So I'm just trying to be balanced in my work, trying to complete a significant number of tasks each day, and trying not to freak out every time something else is added to my plate...which seems to happen with increasing frequency at this time of year.

What makes it worse is that everyone else in the office is having or has had holidays over the last little while, and they all talk about how much they neeeeed the holiday and good it is to not be at work. I bite my tongue and try to be other-person centered and be happy that they are able to have some time off. What I need is to find a way to recharge and replenish my physical and emotional energy, without needing to take a slab of time off. This is just trying to keep my head above water, mind you; it doesn't allow at all for creative space or writing time.

I went over to Matthias Media this afternoon to say hi to Emma and Karen, and Tony Payne asked me whether I'd finished my novel yet. We talked about a scene in Family Guy when Stewie hassles Brian about writing his novel - we agreed it's very funny, but harsh , and yet strangely true. Then Tony said he would ask me every time he saw me whether I had finished the novel yet. This is good, I need people to look out for me and egg me on, but sadly it doesn't help me find the time or space to actually do the writing.

I just want to cry, but I'm too tired to. Maybe I'll go eat the chicken pie I made for dinner and have a long bath.

(sorry that the blog's been so maudlin lately...I'm sure I'll come out of this fug soon)

Oh, if you like Family Guy, here's the clip (and it ends just the way I want to end some conversations...):

a long post for a long weekend

Thanks to APEC and the road closures and George Bush needing a motorcade of seventy million limos every time he wanted to drive 100 metres, it was a long weekend in Sydney last weekend. It also coincided with the first weekend of the Women's Katoomba Convention, so our church group decided to go up on Friday and make it kind of a relaxing long weekend, rather than the usual stressful scramble to make it up to Katoomba in time for the first talks on Saturday morning.

We stayed in a gorgeous and well-appointed house just down the road from the conference centre, at the edge of the golf course. We were pleased to discover that it looked exactly the same as in the photos - I think mum and I have become newly disillusioned about property photos, and how there is a rather large gap between what they promise and what they deliver! But Bodhi Grove was very comfortable and warm and pleasant (it also had the biggest spa bath I've ever been in...I felt like I could go swimming).

We had a lovely roast chicken dinner on Friday night, with mum's Christmas pudding for dessert. It suited the weather perfectly, as it was cold, rainy and foggy outside.

The next morning we headed over to the convention site. This year's WKC was on the topic 'A Different Drum' and had talks from Rose Dowsett (1 Peter) and Lisa Patston (Isaiah) about how we are to walk to a different drumbeat as Christians. Although I found the convention moving and interesting and all of that, my brain was so fried and I was so overwhelmed by being in the same room as 2000 women (the noise! it's unbelievable!) that I could barely take anything in (my next post will be an overview of my notes, such as they are).

We had dinner that night in the kitschy but cute Swiss Cottage in Katoomba, and I was most taken by the huge cowbells on the wall. They reminded me of my Swiss step-grandmother, Rose, who used to read us a story about these children in the Swiss alps and cowbells (I don't remember anything more about it than that!). I had rabbit (which the jolly waitress kept referring to as 'happy bunny') and mum and I shared the most divine Lindt chocolate fondue for dessert.

I found it a bit difficult to cope with, just the relentless nature of the weekend. Conferences can be hard work at the best of times, but I think I was already very tired, and there is so much happening with work and moving and everything that I just couldn't function. There was so much talking and interaction and socialising and I am used to having a lot of time on my own, being reasonably quiet. I went and sat on my own in the car for a while at one point, just to get some peace, and wandered off around the outside of the house just to listen to the birds and breathe in the cold air.

Once it was all over, mum and I went to Leura for lunch and then drove to the Baddeleys for afternoon tea. They are both exhausted too, with the impending overseas relocation, so we all just kind of sat in the living room staring at each other and making terrible jokes.

i think i just hit a wall of some sort

I am suddenly completely exhausted. I'm not quite sure what happened.

Work has been fairly relentless - not anything too full on, just inexorable and neverending. I was quite defeated when I got the proofs back from the designer this afternoon for this next issue of Salt, which I want to be really fantastic, and it's just...blah. I could do better. I did do better in the mockup I sent her. I just didn't have the energy to send her corrections so I came home and had a hot bath, and now I feel like I either want to stay up all night designing cool things just for fun, or completely conk out right here and now. I just want to do something FUN but I also feel like I need to sleep for about three weeks.

Also I'm feeling quite sad for no particular reason. Maybe it's just a mid-winter malaise or something.

a long birthday post (with pictures!)

It's been a great birthday weekend. After my little burst of melancholy on Friday night (and a little cry), I went to bed determined that I would wake and be positive and have a great day. And I did!

It began on Saturday with breakfast in Clovelly with mum. She gave me my present - another charm for my bracelet, of a little cat (left). After some delicious banana bread with cinnamon ricotta, we went to White's Cakes and bought some supplies for the party. We went to Bondi Junction for the rest of the things we needed, and I bought myself some candles and yummy smelling body cream (I always have to buy myself something...). DJs was having a special so I got two free things with my cream - so it felt like a birthday present from them too!

We set up my flat for the afternoon tea, and mum was brilliant, making sandwiches and salmon quiches and the obligatory pink iced cupcakes. Then people started arriving and we had rawther a lovely afternoon tea. They were almost all St Martin's people, with a couple of valuable extras - the Tonks, the MacBeaths, Bec R, Kieran, Meg, Jen, Em and Stu, Freda, and mum of course! People were very sweet and gave me lovely presents, like flowers, lovely stationery stuff, a voucher for a pedicure, the cuddliest Converse sweatshirt, a beautiful glass teacup and saucer, money to buy pampering things...and other stuff too. I'm so blessed with such wonderful friends. :)


All the delicious food - salmon tarts and quiche, neenish tarts, jam tarts (a lot of tarts), fairy bread, tomato sandwiches and egg and cress sandwiches, passionfruit sponge, maccaroons, merengues - the little pink cakes are not pictured because they disappeared as fast as mum could ice them.

me and my goddaughter, imi

me and my 'sister' bethany

imi and nathaniel

our elegant and refined surrounds in my flat

rebecca r showing us exactly how a lady takes tea

me and miss meg

Mum and Freda, the champions they are, did the cleaning up while I got dressed for the next portion of the celebrations. Dave came home, then we trundled off to Darlinghurst to Bill & Toni's for some cheap and cheerful Italian food, gelato and yummy wine with Heath and Simone, Jackie and Brett. I even played pinball and we had a couple of rounds of that gun game. Turns out I'm something of a crack shot (yeah right).

Heath and Simone face off

Me, Jackie and Mr Brett in my favourite 'Very Hungry Caterpillar' t shirt

Dave and me

And then, after all that, Dave and I went to meet up with Kiz, Renee, Glenn, Josh and Geoff for some drinks, dancing and pool in the city. For better or worse, I was introduced to Jaegerbombs and remembered that no matter how hard I try, I really suck at pool.

Kiz and me

It's really hard to take photos in the dark, while dancing

After a looong walk from one end of George st to the other, where Dave and Glenn seemed to stop for a conversation with every single person we passed, we finally got back to Central where Geoff's car was parked. Before we could leave, however, the boys had to go and help a taxi driver who had managed to get his taxi stuck on a traffic island (above). There were about 20 guys all pushing and bouncing the car, but it didn't go anywhere until Dave calmly headed over and suggested they push it sideways, off the thing it was stuck on. Oddly enough, it worked. Then we finally headed home and I was grateful for my lovely soft bed.

Today mum came round after church (I was still quite asleep), and we brought out the leftovers from afternoon tea and just blobbed around for a while. Then we went into town so I could spend my Dymocks gift voucher (from Heath and Sim) and I also bought a denim jacket, something I've been meaning to get for the last few years.

And now I have cooked a delicious smelling beef and red wine stew for dinner, and it's raining with thunder and lightning and everything, which seems just the perfect way to end a birthday weekend.