I’m hiding in the tub. When I hit that overwhelm I like to retreat to warm water. I want to do more today than I have the time or energy to complete. Shutting down feels easier than moving left, right or forward, so I am taking a bath to try to prevent an emotional spiral. To let my next step pick itself.
Many a Sunday I have return to the lyrics Kris Kristofferson wrote: On the Sunday morning sidewalk/ Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned/’Cause there’s something in a Sunday/Makes a body feel alone/There ain’t nothin’ short of dyin’/Half as lonesome as the sound/ On the sleepin’ city sidewalks/ Sunday mornin’ comin’ down
While I not extremely hungover and filled with regret like the narrator, I feel the lonesomeness of a Sunday. Durning the work week I hang on for the weekend. Saturday holds the promise of freedom, the great outdoors with the wind in my hair. Sunday is the reality of food prep, chores that make my work week flow easier and time to catch up whatever I have piled up for when I have time.
So much of life seems to be managing the rub between work and self as there is rarely a balance. I’m tired. I just want to be able to afford to retire to be a stay at home dog & horse mom while I am physically and mentally able to do so.
Soon I’ll get out of the tub, dry off and continue on with my day. I don’t have the answers. Baths are not the solutions to all problems. Somethings may never be resolved.