Have you ever had anyone ask you the wrong thing at just the wrong moment? That’s what happened to me as I was leaving work on Friday. It’s a perfect example of why the Briana Couture pod resonated with me so much.
I don’t mean to whine. Right now I’m really not that sick. I know people who are really sick, and I’ve been really sick, so I know what that is – and I’m not it. But, at the same time, I’m also not 100 percent well either. I’m not the same person I was five years ago. I get tired more easily than I used to. My joints hurt from time to time. Sometimes my “bad breathing” acts up. Sometimes I just go through weeks of pretty amazing fatigue and no one seems to know why. I think because I do so much, they don’t always take it seriously.
I’d say that most of the time I’m operating at 80 to 90 percent, which is good enough for most things on most days – but not necessarily everything. Some days, however, I’m operating at more like 40 to 50 percent.
That’s the thing. You can’t tell how I’m feeling by the way I look. I try not to complain, even if people ask me how I’m feeling, because I don’t want to wear them out, sort of speak. If you complain often enough, no one really hears you anymore.
Eventually you reach a point where you just “deal.” You go on about your daily business, even if you’re not feeling well, because somehow it’s still possible and the alternative is to completely lose your life. So, you just “suck it up.”
Last week was a better week than the few before it health wise. I wasn’t having as much in the way of diarrhea or cramps etc. But, I was still very tired. To make ends meet I took on additional work in the evenings (something I probably shouldn’t have done.)
The issue at work is behind once again, and as I was walking out the door for the weekend my boss asked me if I’d be willing to write one of the features over the weekend. She offered me a day off during the week in exchange.
In the past it was the kind of bargain I would have jumped on. I’d much rather have a week day off than a weekend day. The buses don’t run on the weekend and it would be very nice to be able to run to the mall, or Target or such places and avoid the expense of a taxi.
But I turned her down. I tried to do it nicely, but the desperation of how I was feeling might have leaked through as she backed down from the idea pretty quickly. As she was asking me this question every joint in my body hurt. I hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time all week. I’d worked three 15-hour days in a row (granted not all of them for her, but then again, if I made a more competitive salary I wouldn’t need to scrounge up work on the side.) I hadn’t had time to go grocery shopping for actual fresh and healthy food in weeks. My apartment was becoming a contender for the health inspector. I needed to run some errands over the weekend. And, I’d planned a fun outing on Sunday. Darn it! I need some fun in life too!
So, when she asked me if I could sacrifice one of my precious days off the answer was a rather emphatic NO!
By Sunday evening my mood had softened. While the house wasn’t clean, I’d made some progress (and I couldn’t make more because I was getting too winded anyway.) I’d had some sleep, a little fun and felt like life in general was somewhat under control. Most of all, I wasn’t hurting. Not even a little bit. Suddenly the idea of working a bit on some things for work seemed more palatable.
The thing is I know my boss had no idea what she asking me on Friday, or what was going through my head as she asked it. That’s the point. When I don’t go to a social event, or turn down things I once used to eagerly do, no one really understands why.
I don’t mean to whine. Right now I’m really not that sick. I know people who are really sick, and I’ve been really sick, so I know what that is – and I’m not it. But, at the same time, I’m also not 100 percent well either. I’m not the same person I was five years ago. I get tired more easily than I used to. My joints hurt from time to time. Sometimes my “bad breathing” acts up. Sometimes I just go through weeks of pretty amazing fatigue and no one seems to know why. I think because I do so much, they don’t always take it seriously.
I’d say that most of the time I’m operating at 80 to 90 percent, which is good enough for most things on most days – but not necessarily everything. Some days, however, I’m operating at more like 40 to 50 percent.
That’s the thing. You can’t tell how I’m feeling by the way I look. I try not to complain, even if people ask me how I’m feeling, because I don’t want to wear them out, sort of speak. If you complain often enough, no one really hears you anymore.
Eventually you reach a point where you just “deal.” You go on about your daily business, even if you’re not feeling well, because somehow it’s still possible and the alternative is to completely lose your life. So, you just “suck it up.”
Last week was a better week than the few before it health wise. I wasn’t having as much in the way of diarrhea or cramps etc. But, I was still very tired. To make ends meet I took on additional work in the evenings (something I probably shouldn’t have done.)
The issue at work is behind once again, and as I was walking out the door for the weekend my boss asked me if I’d be willing to write one of the features over the weekend. She offered me a day off during the week in exchange.
In the past it was the kind of bargain I would have jumped on. I’d much rather have a week day off than a weekend day. The buses don’t run on the weekend and it would be very nice to be able to run to the mall, or Target or such places and avoid the expense of a taxi.
But I turned her down. I tried to do it nicely, but the desperation of how I was feeling might have leaked through as she backed down from the idea pretty quickly. As she was asking me this question every joint in my body hurt. I hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time all week. I’d worked three 15-hour days in a row (granted not all of them for her, but then again, if I made a more competitive salary I wouldn’t need to scrounge up work on the side.) I hadn’t had time to go grocery shopping for actual fresh and healthy food in weeks. My apartment was becoming a contender for the health inspector. I needed to run some errands over the weekend. And, I’d planned a fun outing on Sunday. Darn it! I need some fun in life too!
So, when she asked me if I could sacrifice one of my precious days off the answer was a rather emphatic NO!
By Sunday evening my mood had softened. While the house wasn’t clean, I’d made some progress (and I couldn’t make more because I was getting too winded anyway.) I’d had some sleep, a little fun and felt like life in general was somewhat under control. Most of all, I wasn’t hurting. Not even a little bit. Suddenly the idea of working a bit on some things for work seemed more palatable.
The thing is I know my boss had no idea what she asking me on Friday, or what was going through my head as she asked it. That’s the point. When I don’t go to a social event, or turn down things I once used to eagerly do, no one really understands why.
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