After a busy few weeks, I anticipated a crash, but thought I’d gotten away with a single down day. I got busy, cleaning out closets, had stuff out all over my place...and then it happened...the crash.
I went to bed early, woke late the next morning, and had a three hour nap that morning, and another hour and a half in the afternoon. I felt like a toddler, needing her naps. It was early to bed that night, amazing that I could still sleep. For those two nights I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in ages, too bad I had to be exhausted to have it happen.
Now, almost a week later, I’m still dragging, not quite up to whatever speed that is I usually maintain. The cleanup is almost done. I’ve worked at it little by little, and feel some sense of accomplishment.
There is a box of stuff to be donated, garbage to take to the curb, but still too much ‘stuff’ sitting around on surfaces, so cleaning is difficult. I need to dust and vacuum and will get it done, eventually.
The one plus to living alone, this mess is all mine, and I can put up with it where someone else might not. But this kind of mess is getting to me, unlike the mess I can make when I’m in the middle of some creative project. Somehow, a mess in the name of art is okay, because then I’m an artist, not a slob.
That’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it.