This weekend was a bit of a bust as far as weekends go. Friday morning I woke up to the room spinning around me and feeling so queasy, I had to call Jarrod to come home early. That feeling literally lasted till last night and I still don’t feel quite right, but ready or not, Monday’s here and I gotta bring my game face this week. There’s stuff to do and Thanksgiving to plan and projects to accomplish.
Besides laying there on the couch all weekend, I let some myself drudge over some stuff that I really need to fake isn’t there. Maybe I had too much time to think, maybe my hope has been deferred too much (Proverbs 13:12), maybe I was pms-ing, maybe I was spurred on my thoughts of the holidays and memories of last years holidays, I don’t know what it was but it definitely put me in a dizzy, room-spinning, nauseous funk.
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In a last hope attempt to save my Sunday before Jarrod walked out the door for a business trip, I asked him what I should do to unfunk. Basically he said to plan my week and make a list. And you better believe this girlfriend knows how to make herself a list. I made a list with a million things to do this week, and I wrote them all knowing full well that I won’t accomplish them all but here’s to faking that too. I also realized something else while I made that list–I need to tape it to my forehead and not look anywhere else but right in front of me. I can make myself a teeny tiny little box, with me, my kids, my immediate responsibilities in, but other than that I cannot focus on anything else. Because if my focus goes much farther beyond my inch of breathing room in my box, I’ll take a whole mile, and I know y’all do that too. Pretty soon I’m looking miles down the road and the space between me and the tiny dot at the end of that mile is full of questions and doubt and unbelief and confusion. Therefore, the funk.
So here’s to Monday, a new week, an unrealistic to-do list, and a teeny tiny box.
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