Want to hear something fun? I fainted last Saturday. As in, “Oh deary me,” place a hand up to the forehead and gingerly collapse. Except it wasn’t nearly as graceful I’m sure.
Of course I had to be in my bikini and cover up when it happened. (When I finally came to and stood up, I had a wedgie the size of Florida that suddenly created a new thong. Hooray for showing the restaurant your ass!)
Preface: The hubster, our friend and I were at the beach for about a half hour. After one beer, we decided to go to grab a good ol’ slushie from Fat Tuesdays (I had to pick FAT TUESDAYS of all places to faint). Suddenly, without warning, I got very hot. Cold sweats set in and I asked for a water. The hubster came back with one and after I had a sip of it, my vision started going and BAM. I was out. Like any sober girl at Fat Tuesdays would be. Son of a…
After a gamut of weird tests yesterday, the doctor says my ticker is okay. I was probably dehydrated. Blood work all came back healthy too. She may want me to follow up with a cardiologist so I can share the fun story all over again. “Yes. I was at Fat Tuesdays. No. I wasn’t drunk.”
Don’t ask the hubster about it. I gave him a good scare. Don’t ask our friend about it. He’ll tell you I apologized about the whole thing an obnoxious amount of times. As any guilt-ridden child does.
The whole thing freaked me the fuck out. Do you know what it’s like to literally feel your body shut down within seconds? I could only grasp onto the table before it was lights out.
I’ve questioned myself about it a lot, as any introspective person does. Why did my body give out on me? Why did it get so stressed? Am I that stressed? Juggling too much? Is this my body’s way of telling me I really do need to go to bed by 11pm?
No. I was probably, more than likely, just dehydrated. But it made me wonder about how full my plate is. While it is organized, my schedule could sure use some reprioritizing.
The hubster is leaving for a bachelor party this weekend which has my mind racing full of things that I can get done while I’m alone.
- This blog
- Cleaning, errands
- Southeast Asia Trip planning
- Online class (I’m taking a writing/business course)
- Chick flick
- Singing in my Spice Girls t-shirt (pants optional)
- Reading by the pool
- Going for a long walk
If the hubster is home ZERO of the above fun things get done. It has nothing to do with him. I can’t tell you how much he encourages me to just STOP. Hammer time. (Sorry. Had to.) But there’s this internal obligation in my head to be working on stuff for me or us or work, rather than taking time for the fun things, just for me.
What I’m most looking forward to this weekend is not having a demanding schedule, which is truly only a schedule I dictate to myself.
My schedule during the week is pretty full and not unusual from yours, I’m sure:
Leave the house for 11-12 hours for the office, get home between 7-8pm, have a good 2-3 hours to get your everyday-life duties finished and write a blog and maintain friendships and family relationships and check your work email and finish up projects so you don’t walk into more work the next day and maybe if you’re lucky squeeze in a quick, few sentences of a book you’ve been meaning to finished before…boom. Done.
I literally have an item on my to-do list on my iPhone from 2012 to “finish reading self-esteem book.” It’s been on there for nearly 3 years because everything else in my life is clearly more important than a book about improving my self esteem.
I mean, really?
I need to better prioritize me. Fit me into the to-do list. Prioritize time for things that fill me with energy and not feel guilty about it.
I’ll do it just after I finish wrapping up this freelance project that I’m on deadline for tomorrow…