Goldilocks

© cuppyuppycake, 2013.

I get to the point where I’m ready for something new. When everything feels like it’s in a pretty good place and I have a nice handle on all the things I’m doing. A good routine is set with exercise and eating habits that work well for everyone involved. I’m getting up early and writing. Lately I’ve found myself in a place completely different than I thought I’d be at this time last year. Somewhere that I didn’t think I’d be staring at for years. But here we are. Settling in to an equilibrium that I’m happy with. So I start thinking that I’m ready for a new topic, a new addition.

But, of course, that thought immediately paralyzes me.

Adding more to my plate is the most logical thing. It would keep me growing, prevent stagnation. But it could also go so far in the other direction that I lose all the freedom and inspiration that is responsible for me thriving currently. There is such a gentle balance to strike there that I have never gotten the hang of. I suppose that’s the crux of being a truly all or nothing girl. Add too much and nothing gets done. Add too little and I’ll feel like it barely counts and just want to add more. More until it’s too much again. Add to that the seemingly endless amount of things I could choose from and I’m stuck constantly second-guessing. I feel like there must be a relevant story in Greek or Roman mythology for this. Some dude that had his choice of most everything and didn’t want to choose because he would lose the ability to choose the other things later. Never choosing anything at all and never growing, never changing.

There must be a balance there. Where giving up a little of my freedom for my betterment doesn’t seem so daunting. A logical decision out of all the possible choices that doesn’t make me lose sight of all my other options. I feel like I’m looking for more no-brainers in my life. When I spend my time writing or exercising I never wonder if I should have spent my time doing something else. When I commit to weekly appointments with a therapist I never wonder if I’m missing out on something better those mornings. When I married Mason I never thought for a second about not dating any of the other guys out there. Those weren’t hard decisions. But they also weren’t decisions I mulled over or debated, so maybe that’s the only real problem I have.

Forever cursed to think too damn much.

Ginger Tea

© geniusofnati, 2013.

I’ve been fighting off some sort of sickness for the last couple of weeks. That half-almost getting sick feeling that clings onto your throat, your head. It settles into your eyelids, making them hang low on your face and sucking all the energy you wish you had for the things you need to get done. I generally take getting sick as an insult. A chink in my armor showing my weakness.The perfectionist in me will not stand for it and I become angry in addition to ill. But I’m trying to approach it differently this time.

For weeks now I’ve been craving a break. Wanting nothing more than to stay in bed and read, but committing myself to a list of things that need to be accomplished so long I never got my desired naps in. Now I don’t have a choice. My energy drags during my morning workout and by early afternoon I’ve done all I physically can do and I’m back in bed. A two hour nap on top of the nine hours of sleep I already got last night. Generally this would make me feel lazy, like I wasn’t pulling my weight. But now I’m sick, so, you know, what can you do? I’m left with no choice but to curl up in a pile of blankets with a dozen books I’ve been wanting to read and piping hot cups of ginger tea. Thank you.