Sick-Tired

As homage to my super-awesome brother, I named this post after him.  Cute story: You know how children parrot what they hear, and manage to regurgitate it at a perfectly appropriate/inopportune moment?  If you say “no”, you are lying.  For instance, ever had your kid drop their sippy cup full of apple juice, and say, with furrowed brow, “Dammit!”?  Or maybe your 4-year old is crying, and you ask what is wrong, and they very sweetly, with tear-swollen eyes, say, “My fuckin’ boo-boo huts” (‘cuz they can’t say their R’s yet…). No?   LIAR. 

Anyways.  My mom must have said, “I’m sick and tired of….” (Our messy rooms, doing all the chores, making dinner, listening to us whine, whatever.) About a million times.  Because whenever my bro-we’ll call him Greasy Monkey, shall we?-would be mad, he would tromp in, stand in front of you with his cute-as-shit pouty mouth, and say in a sweet little 3-year-old voice, “I sick-tired!”.  It became a “thing” in our home. 

Now, more than ever, his words resonate with me.  I am sooooo sick-tired of this health shit.  I have been diagnosed since Jan 2011.  In pain for much longer-dealt with mind-numbing sciatica for 12 years, other pains for longer.  And I know I get in this mood every once in a while (every 28 days, if you ask Sky King), but this shit is getting OLD.  I’m sick-tired of being sick, and tired.

Especially when there is no reason. I have not been up since 5 am, working in the yard to de-weed in time for a late crop. I have not sorted through 5 years of files, then schlepped everything off to the shredder.  I have not helped a friend move, packed my own home, played an intense sport, run a 5k, or prepared a week’s meals for my family.

This is what I have done today:

I put away some of the Halloween crap, into their totes.  I am missing a tote, or some of the crap has multiplied, because I still have some left. I don’t have the energy to seek out more totes. Maybe later I will get over to Target for one.

I thought about putting out the fall décor, but I don’t know where it is. I thought it would be mixed in with the Halloween stuff, but it wasn’t, and I don’t want to wake Sky King to get him to find it.  Because I don’t have the energy to look in the cold garage.

I have looked in Pinterest, because I am feeling crafty. I want to do a wreath and plan my Thanksgiving centerpieces.  I have to go to the craft store, and I am hoping I don’t run out of energy to actually MAKE what I bring home. But that will likely happen, and the crap I buy will end up in a closet somewhere.

I have searched some easy recipes for dinner tonight-with the plan to watch some football while the Crockpot does the work.  I am pretty sure this will get done.

I checked my email for a cookie recipe someone sent to me, with the intention of making them-they are spice cookies, and they are very easy. I don’t however think I will get to them, especially since I have to convert them to GFCF.  Oh well, I guess I don’t need any cookies, anyways.

I have made coffee, and put some crap in the sink, taken the filled garbage out of the kitchen can and relined the can, leaving the heavy bag for someone else to take outside.

It’s 9 am, and I am almost out of energy. And Princess wants me to take her to see Puss and Boots today.  In order to keep this promise, I will likely have to skip the craft store, skip the décor putting-out, skip the cookies, skip the laundry I just remembered still needs to be done.

Life: 6, Aimee: 4.

I am sick and tired of being tired. I am exhausted, and I have almost nothing to show for it.  Quality of life, this is not.  I don’t demand that I get this much done each day. But really, is it all that much? Maybe I am unrealistic. Maybe regular humans don’t seek to get this much done on a regular day-maybe I am being unreasonable. It happens, believe me.

Am I asking too much of a normal person? Because, really, all I want to be is normal.