I’ve left the house (outside of walking the dog) three times in 40 days. Today is the first day that I had the energy to do something other than work 40 hours a week and sleep and exercise and think about meals.
So I wiped down the shelves in the refrigerator and made blondies. I feel accomplished and unaccomplished at the same time. Like I should be doing more, but at the same time when’s the last time you wiped down your refrigerators shelves?
I’m four days into a migraine that’s just crash banging away no matter what I do. Which means I haven’t worked out in almost a week so I feel guilty and bad about it. I’d been on a really strong streak of working out every other day and it feels like I’ve just undone it all. I know that’s not how it works, but that’s how it feels.
I don’t really have a point or a story for this post. I’m still here, clearly not posting every day, just doing the best I can. And that’s got to be enough. So maybe I do have a point. We have expectations of and for ourselves, and social media definitely has ideas of what we should be doing with this “extra time” at home. Once in a while it’s worth taking a step back to see if what we’re putting on ourselves is reasonable, helpful, healthy, or worth it. If you’re doing what you can, that’s enough.
It’s looking more like we’ll be home well into summer. Maybe I should make myself a list of unexpectations for the next few months. Things I will not allow myself to feel guilt about not doing. Huh. Stay tuned for that.