And, truthfully, I just could not mentally cope with the lift of having a very productive day.
I didn't completely abscond my motherly and adult-y duties. I curled some hair and lined some eyes for a tech rehearsal. I watched some kids basketball and made some lunch and put away Valentine's Day decor and pulled out a few Easter things. I dumped some marinade on a flank steak. I signed up to be a tent host at a crew team regatta. I checked in with some friends quickly over text. I ordered some random ingredients from Amazon Fresh, which never arrived and never will because apparently Amazon Fresh is also taking a sick day.
Then I sat in a chair with a cup of coffee, a blanket and my Kindle (and finished Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead, adorable, but requires reading the first book in the series first, lest you are totally confused!). I told my husband I was taking a sick day and he laughed.
But really, I was playing sick because every other day is just so busy around here and I've lost my ability to think and process it all. There is so much to remember and orchestrate and find and manage and process. I am not complaining, not exactly, but I am acknowledging in writing that it is hard to be a mother of three kids in high school, middle and elementary as well as a wife and a writer and have job responsibilities and be part of the community and be a friend. These are all beautiful blessings; but like everything, sometimes you can just have too much and you need to put it all down, even my Wordle-ing.
Today, I needed a minute to realign or something. And while I haven't gotten an official "sick day" since 2006, this unofficial one was really just perfect. I give it 5 stars--I'd totally do it again!
I don't feel frazzled (and I haven't done one bit of yoga or meditation or exercise yet today, nor have I medicated myself in anyway!). I needed this break to just, well, not be responsible for anything. It was an afternoon of recuperation from the beautiful madness that I've created.
Of course, now it is time to emerge from my restful state and sick day chair. There have already been neighbors at the front door and neighbors at the backdoor checking in and stopping by. (And, I do love that our neighborhood is like this-a true community.) And, of course, dinner calls, as does wrangling the children to prepare their items and minds for Sunday. There will be screaming (hopefully theirs and not mine) and fighting over jazz shoes and Bibles and basketball jerseys. But, it's okay, I can handle it after my afternoon of recuperation. . .and I know that I can find another partial sick day, soon, maybe like right after dinner. . . .