Pacing

Drawing of a uterus with a smiley face inside.There’s a load of laundry in the dryer; I should take it out and fold it.

There are two more loads waiting to take its place; I should put at least one of them in.

In reality, I will pull out exactly one pair of clean underwear tonight — to wear for tomorrow. The actual folding of this load will happen tomorrow, and the rest of the washing I’ll save for a different day.

Sort of like, there’s a lesson plan I should be writing. It’s not urgent urgent — and it is planned in my head — but on paper (or on computer), I’m not as fully prepped as I’d like to be.

I should be doing it now, but in reality, I’m toying with the idea of writing it during my Wednesday morning staff meeting (where it still won’t be urgent urgent, but it will be getting there).

Also, this blog. I like to keep a certain amount of items in the queue, in case my Internet goes out or my computer explodes or I end up trucking some friend or creature (or me) to its respective emergency services provider. It’s been known to happen. Or just to keep from feeling like ZOMG! I have to write something NOW! or else there won’t be anything up for tomorrow. Exclamation point! I do not write well under pressure.

And yes, my queue right now is a little lower than I’d like. As with the lesson planning, it’s not urgent urgent — though apparently, I’ve decided it is more pressing than said lesson planning** — but I want to get writing a bit.

In reality, though, I will probably write this one real entry, maybe write one quick fluff pose (maybe not even), and call it good for a day or so. Almost certainly until after the lesson planning. Whether it trumps the laundry is anyone’s guess. (I have enough underwear to make it through the week, but some of my favorite Vibrams are getting pretty stinky.)

Today in my yoga practice, I still had enough energy to take every vinyasa I wanted to. But I made myself skip half of them so I’d be able to make it through my week.

I’m pacing myself, rationing my reserves.

You see, I started breakthrough bleeding today. (Hey, I can’t complain. I made it through 22 active pills, which is a near record.) On a Monday. (Did I mention that I queue posts, and so the day I’m writing is usually not the same as the day of publication?) Day before yesterday, the cramps started ramping up, and though part of me remained hopeful it was just a phase, a larger, wiser part knew what was happening. A period — technically, withdrawal bleed — is inevitable.

During a work week.

Due to a variety of factors — losing past instructional time, current major project, impending end of marking period, and of course, the fact that prepping for a sub is actually more work than is being there — taking a sick day is a last resort. No, really. An absolute last resort: I do not have the energy to plan to be gone.

And so, pacing myself. Holding back on the things I’d like to do today — when the pain is still pretty tolerable — so I will have something left for the things I’ll need to do when the pain is considerably worse.

Hi, endo — this is what I mean when I say that I plan my life around you.

** A note to non-teachers: Teachers procrastinate their lesson planning like students procrastinate their homework. About the only thing we’re worse about is our grading — which I am ironically all caught up on at the moment.

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I'm here. I like stuff. Some other stuff, I like less.

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One comment on “Pacing
  1. Susannah says:

    *hugs* Yes. I know that feel!

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