Tag Archives: tired

Can’t Write After That Run

I know, I should have had Saturday Running Commentary today. After all, I’ve been blathering on and on about the DARE 5K and it was run, wait for it, this morning. I was even thinking as I ran what a great post it was going to make. Well, it isn’t going to make one today.

I have a party to go to. Oh don’t start in with the, “What’s more important, a party or your writing?” What’s important right now is that I don’t have time to take a nap. I tried, oh I tried not to run too fast too soon. I tried not to push myself too hard and give myself an VCD attack. In fact, it wasn’t that bad of an attack. When I stopped running I was making some fairly horrible noises breathing, but nobody got too worried about it and I stopped fairly quickly. So there.

But I’m TIRED. I got up early, and I was tense about the race. I had butterflies in my stomach and in my chest. I was NERVOUS! What was that all about? I do this race for FUN. And it was fun. A lot of fun. But now I’m tired. I have a headache. And I have a lot to get done before I drive three hours or so to a party. Which I hope will also be fun.

I am progressing on my list of things to get done. However, I am leaving the most onerous chore for last. I have to figure out what to wear. You know, I have gained weight and it seems to be settling in my belly. When I was getting changed to go to a wine tasting last night (ooh, that would have made a good post for today), the first outfit I tried made me look like I had a baby bump. A baby bump! At my age! How dreadfully unbecoming.

So this post about Why I Can’t POSSIBLY Write a Post Today is getting progressively longer, because I am putting off that dreadful moment when I start trying on clothes, looking at myself in the mirror and crying. Good thing I’ve been re-hydrating ever since the run.

Hope to see you all on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

It Wasn’t Jack Daniels

Anybody who saw yesterday’s post, about how busy I was and that I was hosting a gathering last night, will not be surprised that today is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I hesitate to share the information, though, because people always get the impression that you behaved MUCH more badly than you actually did. Admit it, some of you are picturing me dancing on tables drinking Tequila straight from the bottle. You think I ended the evening on the bathroom floor, only happy that I made it upstairs and the toilet is handy.

Well you can quit trolling YouTube for embarrassing videos of me that you can submit to World’s Dumbest (although part of me would be thrilled to be included on my favorite show). I wasn’t that bad. And I don’t feel that bad today. I’m just tired, drained and a little brain dead. Typical Sunday these days, no matter what kind of Saturday I’ve had.

But here’s a bit of half-baked philosophy for me to consider on some future Lame Post Friday: why do people so often assume that other people are more drunk than they really are? It has happened to me more than once: somebody looks at a picture of me with a big smile on my face and says, “I guess you were drunk.” Is my life so pathetic that people think the only reason I would have to smile so widely is Jack Daniels?

I’ll speculate on possible answers another time. In fact, at last night’s very enjoyable gathering, I don’t think anybody took any pictures, so I have no big wide grins to explain. And I’ve managed to type in over 200 words, so I’m back to enjoying my Sunday. I hope you are, too.

Preview of Tired Attractions

Full Disclosure: I have no real excuse to have a Tired Tuesday post this week. I am off work (Further Disclosure: this was dictated by my place of employment, it was not my idea). I have been sleeping Not Too Badly.

On the other hand, it is dreadfully hot and humid today. I tend to melt in the heat. Just go ahead and hate on me, all you summer lovers and sun worshipers. On second thought, don’t hate on me, I’m in a very delicate mood today and I might cry.

Ahem, be that as it may, I will give a brief overview of my activities for today, some of which I may write full blog posts about at some future date.

I made a bowl of macaroni salad. It could be worth a post; after all, I used chives from my own garden. I went to Little Falls, NY. In the past, that has been good for a post about me driving around confused by the one-way streets, but today I drove right where I wanted to go. Score!

I had a lovely visit at the Little Falls Historical Society. I definitely plan to write about that. From there I went to the Little Falls Library. I ended up not staying there long enough to write about it, but I may return at a future date.

From there, I drove to Frankfort, NY, where I patronized the Friendly Bakeshop and Melrose Market. Both of these fine establishments deserve a post as well.

Anyone who is exclaiming in an annoyed tone of voice, “Write about it NOW!” will be doomed to disappointment. I have no brain available for such activities. But I hope what I have written so far will suffice for today. Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Middle-aged Me

I can’t help how many foolish posts I have in a row. Some Mondays I can only manage a Middle-aged Musing Monday.

You know, I go around calling myself middle-aged or an old lady, but I don’t think I have really internalized what that means. For example, yesterday I went running, walked my dog, mowed the lawn with a non-power mower, did some work around the house, ran around to four different stores and did a few other less overtly physical chores. Then I got up at 3:30 this morning. And I’m surprised that I’m tired.

Other people seem to have plenty of energy to do everything they want to do. Or do they? Perhaps they just spend less time complaining about how tired they are. Perhaps they are too tired to complain and I misinterpret their silence. How much energy does complaining take anyways? I’m thinking not much, because I can almost always manage a great deal.

In order to stop complaining, I will muse about something positive. I absolutely LOVE tea. I am sipping a cup of hot oolong now and it is improving my quality of life by leaps and bounds. It is not giving me enough energy to, for example, finish my container garden or even finish the blog post I started to write about it. For heavens’ sake, it’s a cup of tea, not a miracle.

I end this post with a question, perhaps of the half-baked philosophical type: is “by leaps and bounds” a cliche or an idiomatic expression?

But I’m Not Supposed to be Tired till Tuesday!

OK, so I just sat here looking at a list I wrote last week of potential blog posts I could write, and yet not writing any of them. I did not write a blog post while at work. I started to write something, then worked on a letter to my sister. As I continued to work, I thought, “This is no problem. I’ll go home, run, then write about my run.”

Oh, I am too tired to run. I am too tired to write. What’s that all about? I can’t do a Tired Tuesday post on a Monday! Monday is for Middle-aged Musings! Dammit! I can’t even stick to my own schedule which is, as you may have noticed, not particularly onerous.

I just sat here looking at the word “onerous” and thinking it did not look right. It looked like it should be pronounced “won-russ”, like the number 1 with rous. Or “wondrous” without the d. My computer did not underline it in red (like it is doing with “won-russ” and “rous”), but I looked it up in the dictionary anyways (I had to pause to remember if O came before or after P). It’s right.

My new plan is to take my precious list downstairs with me and write down why I could not write these potential blog posts tonight. The reasons involve foolishness like I don’t feel like looking up the links I would like to include or I left my notes in my work bag (said bag is on the kitchen floor, it’s not in the Antipodes after all) (I did mention I was tired, didn’t I?) (Incidentally, I believe that is the first time I have ever used the word “Antipodes” in a sentence).

Where was I? Ah yes, nowhere but working on getting somewhere for tomorrow’s blog post. At least I amused myself with today’s silliness. I can only hope others were entertained.

To Write Another Day

Goodness gracious, look at the time. I haven’t made my blog post yet, I haven’t even written it. Oh dear, whatever will I do? Sit down at the computer, I suppose, and see what I can come up with.

OK, I typed that much in and just sat here. Swell. You know, sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. My philosophy is, you have to be philosophical about it (I stole that expression from Donald Westlake) (one of my favorite writers).

I don’t suppose I can still use the excuse of being tired out from my fabulous weekend. Then again, why can’t I? I’m not a young woman. Oh heck, even when I was young I was not particularly resilient. I don’t think. Of course, I don’t remember things very well any more.

I think (stand by for a middle-aged musing) that the older we get, the more ready we are to cut ourselves a break. At least I am. And why not? Why should we not treat ourselves as kindly and gently as we would treat a friend? Or do you not treat your friends kindly and gently? If not, shame on you! Be nice to your friends!

As always, I had hoped not to write yet another post about Why I Can’t Write a Post. But I remind myself, writing about not writing is still writing. I’m sure I’ll live to write another day.

Writing AT ALL

I’m afraid Tired Tuesday is going to be a regular feature for Mohawk Valley Girl, because, quite frankly, I am. This is what I wrote during the 9 a.m. break at work today. Full disclosure: I mostly wrote it just to get my pen moving and hoped I would come up with something better to publish. But perhaps this will do.

The one thing I have a horror of is staring at a blank page. What happens is that one daydreams one’s time away and where does that get one? I suppose there is something to be said for daydreaming, but most daydreamers are too busy daydreaming to say it (ooh, I just flashed on the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer.” Love those Monkees).

I’m having problems with the blog as well as the novel. I have a few things to write about for the blog, but I just can’t seem to put the words on the paper. I really hate admitting that. I can hear scornful voices saying, “Just write it, you big baby.” And I’m afraid the scornful voices are me.

I read a metaphor once that seems appropriate here. You probably won’t be able to batter down the door by main force. Try another door. And return to the first one every so often and give a gentle tap. It might let you in.

Actually, I feel a little better about myself right now, because I am actually putting words on a page. If I can write at all, I can potentially write something good. Ah, and that leads me into the similarities of writing and running. When I was trying to build up my run time in the army, my goal for myself on a run was to run a little faster than I really wanted to run. Very often that pace translated to “at all.” And, lo and behold, as long as I kept running AT ALL, eventually I improved.

Will it be so with my writing? Hard to say. I guess I’ll wait and find out.

NOTE: During my lunch break I wrote two pages on my novel. I wrote another page while doing laundry after work. Maybe writing AT All helps.

A Weary Wuss

Wuss-out Wednesday is getting to be a habit. In my defense, I’m tired.

Yesterday I avoided writing a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post by going for a run and writing about that. Today I’m too tired to run.

My husband, Steven, has spent the first half of this week fighting a cold. At last it seems he is victorious. And now it looks like my turn to suffer. So my lovely blog readers have that to look forward to: me kvetching about my symptoms. So far the main symptom is I’m TIRED!

Other people can write when they are tired. I bet some people are reading this with a smug look, saying, “I can write when I’m tired. It’s not that hard.” Well, THAT’S NICE FOR YOU!

We were at the laundromat earlier this evening, where I wrote a page on my novel. It was not a very good page, perhaps, but at least I wrote it. I’m tempted to use that as my reason: I used up all my words for the day on that! How can I be expected to write a blog post as well?

I know, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not a bucket, where you take stuff out and then it’s gone. It’s more a river: as you take stuff out even more flows in to take its place. Well, my river today is full of sediment (give me a metaphor, I’ll beat it till it screams).

I think the best thing to do is to take my weary body to bed and hope it’s only bluffing about coming down with a cold. I hope to come up with something more amusing for Non-Sequitur Thursday.