fox

Christmas concerts with the big chorus are done. Work is at a manageable dull roar for the moment. ( Well, except this one work thing. ) I got my work Secret Santa present on time and my Secret Santee was very pleased with it, including my make-do wrapping job (masking tape inscribed with "THE SCOTCH TAPE IS HIDING" (block print, you see, so nobody could recognize my writing)--because our scotch tape must be in a box somewhere and there wasn't time to go out and buy more. I got presents for my side of the family ordered and shipped. We don't have presents yet for each other or for Himself's side of the family, but that's all a much less fraught prospect because my side is the only one with a four-year-old. I booked our hotel for New Year's, so a road trip is in our future.

My Yuletide is on 1069 words (yay over the max) and I swear I will finish it this afternoon JUST POSTED, WHOOP WHOOP.

I'm up in the Catholics' choir loft twice on Sunday, three times next Thursday (well - midnight Wednesday and then twice Thursday morning), twice next Sunday, and twice the Sunday after that, so that'll be a nice bundle of stipends. Mama's got to pay the contractor: our house addition plans have been approved (although not yet issued) (and just issued this afternoon, whoop whoop) and I am long past ready to roll. The place where a great deal of our stuff is in storage has been acquired and we're not sure we like the new ownership's terms of service, so we might be getting our stuff back and cramming it into the rooms we're not using ... which will make the building work more exciting, but hey, excitement's what it's all about, right? We'll see.

In any case: I'm this close to having made it through December. Bring on January.

I am having a very, very hard time believing that Thanksgiving is eleven days from now. I mean I guess I can't say I can't believe it, but JFC, where has the time gone!? Yes yes--the days are long but the years are short. But this year, the months and weeks and days are also quite short. I have managed to schedule myself into a series of corners; not sure how that happened either.

Mondays - chorus rehearsals
Tuesdays - curling
Wednesdays - curling
Sundays - Catholics
This week - extra chorus stuff; because I'm an idiot, I agreed to do a chorus gig with the BSO that involves rehearsing in Baltimore this Wednesday (spare arranged for curling) and Thursday and performances Friday through Sunday; also, next Sunday is stir-up Sunday Christ the King, which means I'm on twice with the Catholics, which could (or will?) make me late for the call time in Baltimore. I fretted for a while about how early I'd need to leave the second Mass to be sure I could get there on time and finally told the chorus I might not be able to make it on Sunday, and I've been sleeping a little better ever since. I might still be able to get there, but depending on what the roads look like, it's good to know I'm not going to be held to it. And it's Bernstein's Chichester Psalms, which I like very much, but seriously, that level of stress for a twenty-minute performance is not. worth it. Not at this time of year, anyway.
Plus - some side work doing a bit of light editing I said I'd help a colleague out with. Need to finish that today.

So that's November. For December, I can subtract the extra chorus stuff but add more Catholic stuff, because Christmas, and subtract the whole idea of getting ready for Thanksgiving, but add Yuletide.

This is going to have to be the last year I do two nights of curling on top of doing chorus. I don't know what's going to give, but it's going to be something, because I am exhausted. Switching my birth control pill this week should help, I think--I had a backup substitute formulation while they special-ordered the kind I said had the least unpleasant side effects, and I haven't been enjoying how it's been making me feel. But I don't think it's the only culprit.

Anyway I finally pointed out to Himself the other day that I've been--sort of not-quite-depressed, but I can kind of see it from here. I routinely feel like I don't want to go to rehearsal, but then I almost always feel better when I get there. (I've been having thoughts since last winter or spring about possibly having outgrown this particular chorus, but I'll want to think more seriously about that when I'm not overscheduled into the ground.) I routinely feel like I don't want to go to curling, but then I do always feel better when I get there. So it's not a matter of no longer enjoying things that I used to enjoy. I don't spend time at curling wishing I were at home instead. I'm not having panic attacks or crying jags or other symptoms. I'm just so tired that if I had a choice I would stay home and knit or read or do something else that didn't involve leaving the house instead. I don't have the choice right now, because I've made these commitments, but the next time it is time to make such choices, I think I'm going to choose differently.

We're thinking about trying to get away somewhere for a weekend. Bit of a recharge. Or a reboot. I hope we can find a time for this. We can only hang on by our fingernails for so much longer.