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The campaign to switch from night owl to early bird, in order to create a block of time for writing, has reached a major milestone. Today I woke up before seven-thirty. That is halfway from my normal wake-up of 10ish to my goal of 4ish.
That is supposedly a major accomplishment. But all I feel about it is grumpy.
I was savvy enough to anticipate that this might be the case because I know I do not tolerate change well and besides this being a major shift in time it is a major shift in self-identity, as well as a shift in the meds schedule. So I did my best to set myself up for success by declaring that the very act of getting up early was to be credited as successful without any further expectations put on how I used the time. If anything productive got done that would be gravy.
So I spent the first hour I was up getting meds and snack and writing a good morning email to my husband. The next three hours I devoted to reading a novel of my choice, not an ARC and allowed if I so chose to be completely frivolous. I've not done that since mid January about a week before the lifequake hit.
At noon I fixed lunch for Mom and myself then spent three hours watching news pods while crocheting. Then spent about half an hour surfing and then twenty minutes or so txt chatting with my husband who'd just got home from work down in Phoenix, OR. When he was about to be called to dinner, I segued to watching news vids again but this time while standing and shuffling and light bouncing on the mini-tramp for two hours. Then I started working on this post by hanging out on cheezeburger.com and had chosen the pic and got it into the post just as I was called to dinner. Now I'm trying to get this posted before the scheduled vid or phone chat with Ed at 8ish.
After we say goodnight, I hope to be heading to bed.
That all looks like success, not too shabby on the productive side either. So why am I so grumpy. I've been a whisker away from tears all day. A pervasive sadness grips me. I have a list in my head of many possible culprits but it feels like a futile exercise to name any one thing let alone all of them. It just seems like right now at this moment that the only explanation is that this is me. No matter what goes right or wrong I'm going to see the wrong in it more strongly than the right.
On both the days when I'm feeling like this and the days when I'm feeling elated and optimistic I will tell myself 'this won't last' which sometimes helps me get through days like today but on those days when happy wants to rule acknowledging that is a total buzz kill because I don't then allow myself to enjoy it while it lasts but immediately start probing my mood like a bad tooth looking for the pain which is bound to still be there. And I always find it.