I itch to get up and get doing things, but I don’t. I lie there hoping for rest and sleep.
All these things and more whir around my head at night keeping me awake, no matter how many times I tell myself to think of something caaaah-lm…. like the still waters of the Aegean early in the morning…
Then, the next day, I get up early to actually DO things, and I feel like this:
The house is still a pigsty. There are piles of crap to be thrown out, sorted and put away. There are things to find which may be lost forever under the mountain of timber offcuts and gap filler tubs that were tossed in corners to be put away later.
In fact, I haven’t been able to find my orbital sander this morning.
Maybe that’s partly the reason for my renovation-breakdown…
I got up, still fighting a tightness in my chest that seems to have lodged there for the last 3 days… Stress? Kitchen makeover depression? Overwhelmed-renovator related asthma?
So, I get up and get a running start. I put on and hung out 3 loads of washing in the futile hope that the foggy air will dry them. I fill holes and gaps in the pine lined walls. I lightly sand and do a 2nd coat of paint on the kitchen door which is lying flat in the grooming room right now. I lightly sand and do a 1st topcoat on the moulding and trims.
I look for, and can’t find my orbital sander. I consider hand sanding, or using the corner sander on the gapfiller…
I look at the drill and the broken cabinet on the porch and consider taking it apart to scavenge.
I look at the mess on the porch and remember I told Handyman I’d make room for him to put the cornice tomorrow.
And somewhere around there I lose all will to live.
I better go get my inhaler.
cough, cough, wheeze.
I better go do something or I’ll be beating myself up for wasting time instead of sleeping tonight.