You may be noticing my absence recently. And if you’ve been around long enough, that probably isn’t surprising. It’s definitely the time of year when I have less to say…less to do…less to give.

At the end of a school year, I’m spent, and I sort of hit the wall when I stop moving. My forward momentum gives in, and I find myself suspended and inactive, forced to float between what was and what will be.

Summer break is a weird sort of limbo for me.

Many people got to see what it was like during the pandemic. How it is that we can have all this time and still get so little done…because we are coming from a place of emptiness. A stress fog. A fatigue storm.

Sure, I could jump on a thousand projects, but instead, I work for a few hours and then fall asleep on the couch. There is simply no motivation left in my system.

I put things off. I read a few pages and then stare out the window for half an hour.

This has been the weirdest year…or rather, year and a half. Good in some ways, hideous in others. I taught my preferred subject, my marriage struggled and then found its footing again, I made it halfway through a certification program that I will complete next year.

I did hard things.

But I’m one of those people who has a tendency not to recognize that. To find myself exhausted and telling myself, why are you being so lazy?

It’s not laziness to not be productive…well, sometimes it is, but in my case, and maybe in yours, it’s just a necessary turning in.

Normally, right now, that’s all I’d be doing. But I took a short term position that will last 4 weeks. It’s not difficult, and it will look good for my future job growth. But, when I get home, the bed calls to me. It’s not depression, though I’ve struggled with that in the past…it’s a combination of mental and emotional fatigue.

It’s affected everything this month. And usually it takes at least 2 weeks for me to come out of it after the last day of school.

When you’re like me, and never stop moving (your schedule and mind are always full and there is a to do list a mile long)…and suddenly you have “nothing” to do, it’s disorienting.

But embracing that is how the healing starts. The rebuilding. The preparation for the next marathon.

Today, I wiped my calendar clean. All I have left are my morning routine (coffee, journaling, yoga) a half day of easy work (for a few weeks), an afternoon workout, and taxiing my kid around from sport to sport, which is when I read and blog.

My body seems to be getting into the purge, as well. The past two times we’ve had sex I’ve actually squirted, much to my Husband’s delight. I mean, I have a tendency to make a wet mess, and even gush, but to squirt? It’s an elusive skill in my repertoire of bodily talents. A true and utter letting go.

I work hard. But I don’t play or relax hard enough. This is the area in which I need to improve this coming year (I live my life by school years, not “normal” years). Doing less better, focusing on relationships and pleasure, relaxing more, so that I don’t keep coming in for a crash landing the last day of school, in need of two weeks of sleep before I can be human again.


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