My sister, her husband and myself just recently went on vacation to the beautiful, sunny state of Florida. What an amazing, relaxing, much needed break away from everything these past ten months. Laying on the soft sand, under the rays of the sun and hearing the waves crash over one another is one of the most tranquil feelings I have ever felt.It's almost dream-like. Not until you're driving in your old rickety car back to CT, in the rain after spending six straight days with your twin sister, that you realize you're heading straight back to reality. A reality that comes with stress, and work, and responsibility, and really thinking about how to care for yourself.
During our time away, we threw caution to the wind when it came to eating and drinking and such. While making a slight attempt to at least eat breakfast in the morning, (which we did, thanks to Dave getting up in the morning and cooking), we filled our bellies with alcohol and not-so-good-for-you eats. When we weren't eating, we were drinking and smoking and really feeling like Anthony Bourdain on No Reservations; except we were paying for everything. At the time, you don't think of the repercussions to come from this behavior. But why would you when everything we were doing made us feel amazing? Laying in the sun; not thinking of the responsibilities that await for you back home and at work. Drinking, numbing any bad feelings away, and of course, the classic smoke with a cold Yuengling. Sounds relaxing, and it is at the time. But coming back to that reality is a tough wake up call, as I so found this morning.
My alarm went off at 4:00am, and Tom-cat was laying on my pillow to the right of me; a familiar experience since Tommy became part of my world. I stare at the ceiling listening to my alarm and literally drag myself out of bed. I shut off the alarm and stand at the foot of my bed in the dim light from the the window contemplating laying back down for just a minute. I decide against it as I know I will not want to get back up if I do. I take a shower, and then get my food ready and my work clothes packed in my gym bag. All of this happens within forty-five minutes, but it feels like two hours have gone by. Routine? What routine?? Three days ago I was sleeping! I was sleeping and then getting up making coffee for my twin sister and her husband and we were taking our time getting ready to hit the sunny streets...I get to the gym and meet my gym partner; both of us taking slow strides into the building of Miami bodies; knowing that what is lurking behind those glass doors are the bodies we can only dream of having. Another hard reality of being back in CT. You look at yourself the same way you did before you had the glow of FL on your skin. At least I have a healthy breakfast and lunch to look forward to. Lots of vegetables and fruit and fish. Renewing food to fuel a very deprived body. With the food we were eating, I was beginning to become extremely lethargic. I drive to work, and as if this morning wasn't already a bucket of ice water over my head, I hit traffic. Not traffic that was bringing me to the Sunny Isles side of the A1A, but traffic that was bringing me back to work.
I walk up the eight flights of stairs to the 4th floor and through the door that I was so incredibly happy to avoid for the past week. As I am walking, I hear the chatter of the agents taking the calls, the tapping of the keyboards and I can smell the faint aroma of coffee that is all so familiar to me. A wave of nausea overcomes me while I am nearing the back of the office where my desk is. I know this is from the anxiety that I have from what I can only expect to be a horrible day of catching up. Sure enough, I dock my lap top and open my email....no exaggeration when I say I had (I should say STILL have) over two thousand emails to go through. Over forty invoices to review, voice mails to listen to and respond, not to mention all the new emails I will receive today and questions among the agents.I sit for a minute - or five and ponder how in the world I am supposed to get through this. One email at a time. Leaving work at 730 tonight is definitely not how I wanted my first day back at work to end; however, I would be lying if I said I thought it would be any different. I definitely played hard and and am working a LOT harder catching up!!
Now I am sitting on my couch, my cat running wild - literally, writing this blog. My eyes feel so heavy; a heaviness that when I look up from the computer, the room spins. Blogging seemed like a good idea to get the first day's stress from being back from vacation out. Eleven at night seems like a good time to end this and say sweet dreams fellow blog readers.
Moral of this blog - You shouldn't have to work harder just to play a little hard. There is a balance somewhere in there. I've yet to find it...when you do, please share :-)
Love and wellness to all