No one told me I was not the centre of the universe....

Ok..... so I have spent the past few days feeling a little despondent.  Lots of reasons.  The issue is that we all often get into these little slumps and we are told to either snap out of them or get on with it.

Now normally I am a working woman and there is really no choice in the matter. I HAVE to get on with it, there is not time for indulgence in a mini pityfest.  But being at home right now with precious little to do has turned a couple of off days into a mopefest.

Many people who know me might ask what I would have to mope about.  And the truth would be not much I guess.  But is it so bad that even a busy human being like me, who is the motivater, the driver, the manager, the pacifier, the problem-solver etc has a few days where she just can't pull it together? 

I say - NO.

I say it is good for the soul to sometimes indulge in a little self pity, without recriminations and without consequences.  I say that it is good for the family to see me crash and burn every now and then and I will tell you why.

As mothers and wives and working women we spend our lives taking care of things for everyone in the universe.  I don't know about you but some days I am screaming inside saying "I don't want to do this anymore', or, ' I can't take this anymore', or the best one, 'what about ME!!!!!'. 

Now don't misunderstand, I have a great life. We are not rich and I still do have to work to pay off the mortgage and the school fees etc.  And, we are more comfortable in life than I have ever been.  I am loved by the people that count and I am safe.  

But it is so easy to forget those things when you are picking up clothes from the floor or re-stacking the dishwasher because no one does it the way you like, or finding odds socks in the wash because the pairs are under your son's bed.  It is easy to forget also when you sit in the house day after day, which you love to do and which you craved for so long after working 5 days a week 9-10hours a day and being oncall 24/7 and 365 days of the year for a long long time.  It is easy to forget that you are a professional person with 30 staff and million dollar budgets, that you are respected in your field and even missed.  It is easy to forget what you were aiming for in life when there is no ticking clock driving your every move.  After 5 months at home I have lost my rhythm.  I have 5 months to go before I return to the chaos.

It dawned on me 2 days ago that my biggest challenges are what's for dinner, getting the shirts ironed and managing beloved hubby's good intentions gone wrong (which are never funny till the next dinner party when they take on a whole new hilarious persona of their own).

So, a few things happened all at once to conspire to suck me into the 'poor me' vortex, all of which I would not even have noticed a few months ago.  What were they?  Stupid things really.

Well, first hubby drills the hole for the door handle on the wrong side of the brand new door (but it's OK coz I solved that problem - FIGJAM and thanks Diminishing Lucy), then I confront 5 baskets of ironing, then the weather changes to freezing (thanks Melbourne, my joints thank you and I thank you), then I sit and ponder the fact that I have reconnected with some old friends I have missed for 10 years and they didn't wither and die without me.

So what? Well for a woman who is used to being the centre of the universe and calling the shots these trivial little things - when there is nothing else to think about - can be devastating.  And as my rheumatoid arthritis took to the chilly weather badly and I limped around the house in agony I just wanted to curl up and cry.  Because there is the rub.  At 52 and when the fog of life is just starting to lift and I can do all those things I have always wanted to do I sit here riddled with the worst form of arthritis and 99.9999999999999999% of the world doesn't even know.  So I waddle to the ironing and do about 15 minutes worth, then I sit for a bit. Then I get up to start dinner and do half of the prep and I sit for a bit.  Then I chat to my beautiful friend Kim for a bit. Then I go and pick up my son and sit for a bit. Then I finish dinner prep and sit for a bit.... I sit for a bit and I sit for a bit and I sit for a bit all through the days.  It drives me crazy.  I am the sort of person who starts something and cannot look up till it is finished.  But those days are gone.

So I have digressed...or maybe not.  The human mind is a complex thing.  I can multi task to ridiculous lengths.  I can have several trains of thought going on at the same time while I watch TV and do the ironing. Bit harder when you are trying to type it all out...but I am still running in the background.  I was amazing at work.  I could be drafting  a briefing while listenting to a staff member explain a problem, at the same time I am pre drafting another document in my head and thinking about a couple of cases pending my decisions AND watching the rhythm of the office noting who is coming, who is going, who is not looking well and may need my attention, and so on.... Oh and not to forget the endless ring of the desk and mobile phone.

To get back to the point of this whole ramble.... I am at home now and all is quiet. My busy life hushed temporarily so I had a mini meltdown.  And why is that good for the soul, I pretend to hear you ask?  Well, because in those moments you see who truly loves you.  It is in those times that hubby saying 'you're not feeling well so let's just crash for the afternoon, get takeaway for dinner and tomorrow I'll help you finish the chores', feeds your soul.  It is in those times that your son, who is so wrapped up in his own life and his final exam prep, gives you an unsolicited neck rub and makes you a coffee, that your soul drinks thirstily.  And when your special girlfriend from across the pacific sits patiently as you type out your woes and does nothing but listen, that is when your soul starts to heal.

I guess then for a few days I felt like I was the eye of the storm.  I shut down and looked around and saw that the planet did not stop rotating, the birds kept flying, the phone kept ringing, life clattered on.  For that period I felt the insignificance of our short lives.  I wondered what the hell it was for - all the angst, all the hard work, all the trials, dinners, cakes, ironing, furniture polishing and dusting, all the shopping, parties, books, all the everything.  What is it for?  And then I rememered that it doesn't matter what it is for. No, what matters is only what it feels like.  And there are many moments in every day when it feels really really nice and really really beautiful.

Mini crisis over..... till next time.