Got back from a short trip on Sunday and felt more wiped than before I left, which is becoming a pattern at this point.
I spent about 45 minutes before we even packed making a shared doc with the itinerary broken into blocks, then more time after that checking the cancellation policy on the place we stayed because I couldn’t just book it and move on with my day.
Even the parts that were supposed to be rest, I turned into something to manage. Checking my phone for messages about the couch I’m trying to sell before the move, replying to a buyer who wanted to reschedule pickup, refreshing the local listings site in bed because I’m in the middle of downsizing and everything feels urgent even when it isn’t.
I don’t think I actually relaxed once on that trip. I was kind of proud of how “efficient” the whole thing was though, which probably says something about where my head is right now.
Between the part-time work, the research deadlines, and now boxing up and rehoming half my apartment before the lease is up, I don’t really have a version of downtime that isn’t also a task with steps and a checklist attached. Even sitting still feels like something I should be doing “right,” which sort of defeats the whole point of it.
Needed to put that somewhere. Back to sorting boxes tonight, I guess.