Tamara L. Siuda, unplugged
First weekend of heat. Wishing I hadn’t decided to store the portable air conditioner in the downstairs closet, because now I’ll have to haul it up the stairs. Thankfully, the heat subsides tonight, and if the forecast holds it’ll be more than a week of cooler weather, so I can save up energy for that task.
I took several days off this week, and only worked on what I felt like working. I realize that’s not exactly days off, but for me that’s a step in the right direction. I weeded and planted the garden box, cleaned, packed up packages for the post office, picked up other packages and groceries, and got a dent in a car door from a careless person in the next parking space. This week’s counseling load was no lower, but different. Last week’s funerals and suicide attempts were replaced this week by two emergencies (both turned out okay), another funeral, and a missing person. I’m astounded by people suggesting there’s nothing strange going on or that the pandemic is a hoax. I’ve dealt with more crises in the last month than all of last year - and my community is not dealing with as many crises as others I’m aware of. Stress is definitely up, so it was important to slow down.
My body rewarded me for slowing down by deciding I needed to have an arthritis flareup in my hands again - which meant I got very little writing done, and was only able to do a minimal amount of cleaning and housework. More reading was done, more petting the cat, and more naps. These are good things, but I had plans for that time, and was denied carrying those plans out. A bit concerned that this hand thing is the new normal if I do too much.