Saturday, March 29, 2014

Werk and being a wounded meat bag

So my "normal" work week is  thur, fri, sat, and Sun and is about 25 hours.  But almost every other week I get meetings, babysitting, dog training, and extra coverage tacked on and it ends up being closer to 30 hours a week.  Which is fine, because: money.  The thing that is not so great is that my huse begins to look like squatters live here, or that the animals have taken over and we are 2 mintues from a lord of the flies situation with the dog as king, the cats head on pikes and hubby in the corner eating fruit cocktail out of a can with a broken spork.

It takes me longer to do things.  Laundry, takes longer because sometimes my entire right side is numb or decides today is not a ___________ day (walking, grabbing, bending, lifting, being able to detect hot or cold) Every damn thing affects my body; dust, dander, rain, heat, cold, etc...add on that I am spening most of my work hours in my car driving, or in a house cleaning, or at a gym working out when I get home or have 2 days off I literally have to resist macrame-ing my ass into the couch and refusing to move.
I have been trying to do 6 days a week cardio and 3 days a week resistance training to keep my body loose and muscles in shape, strong core, and muscles means less chance of me falling down, straining something and not having a working skeleton to support me. (I am in general a walking meatbag with broken bones assembled inside)

So to people who think I can just work 40 hours, (because you do that, and have kids, and work out, and go out, and volunteer, and nurse baby squirrels back to health) I say I wish.

I enjoy working, I enjoy doing a job well, I enjoy being able to pay my bills, have insurance, and have a place to go where I am providing a service and doing it well.  I liked working so much I used to work 60 plus hours a week AND was a volunteer firefighter.

Now, I have to accept that my mind likes work but my body can't handle fulltime (It can't handle cheap beer and staying out until 1AM either)

Mix in being older, mix in anxiety, mix in being a shaken jenga puzzle covered in ground chuck, sealed in plastic wrap.

The mind is willing but the body gives life the finger.

But we endure, and I hope we can be kind, see things from all the angles and accept that for myself, and many other people living with Chronic diseases and disorder, there is always a will, but the body is in the way.

Be good to yourself,


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