Monday night Scott and I fell asleep on the couch together. At 11pm. (Our usual bedtime is 1:30.) This only after I protested his cuddles by saying, “Don’t talk to me until October.” I lost 2 hours of productivity to this unplanned cuddlefest, plus the motivation to go to yoga this morning because I was all confused by my random sleeping and the horrible, horrible allergies I woke up to.
My panicked, productive side wishes I could say this was a one-time lapse into laziness, but the same thing happened again last night.
I think I’ve hit a wall.
Truthfully, the exhaustion started at work last Friday after a particularly productive week. (But no yoga, I think the skipping my weekday yoga is wreaking havoc.) Suddenly my back felt all twisted out of shape and weak to the point where just staying upright was a chore, and all I wanted was to do was do my work lying flat on the floor. Which, obviously, I couldn’t. Friday felt like the longest day ever, culminating in an awful crowded train ride home that I think got my
rage adrenaline going enough that we were able to squeeze a couple errands in when I got home and I didn’t pass out immediately.
Maybe that’s all carrying over into this week?
Or maybe it’s from Sunday, where I worked for twelve solid hours planning and ordering the decorations for the wedding, catching up on blogs, and blogging myself. (Decision fatigue, anyone?)
When did wedding planning and blogging become work?
I guess when I allowed it to make my life so structured that I fight being hugged by my fiancé because “there’s not enough time.”
And yes, I know that that fiancé-hug-related stuff is the point of the whole thing, but it’s so hard for me to switch into that, when Type-A, goal-focused, workaholic me is chomping at the bit 24 hours a day lately.
Anyone else experiencing/have experienced this? Did you feel distanced from your relationship because of all the work?
Tell me your stories!