Copout

Lately I have felt like doing nothing. NOTHING. I can't get motivated or excited about anything. I don't know if it's the end of summer ickiness, or lack of good sleep, or just general burnout. But I just feel lazy. Sometimes I'm too lazy to even make myself lunch. It just seems like so much work, and for what? So I can choke down half a pb&j before some kid is demanding to be fed or entertained? Eh. What's the point? It's just one more dish to wash.

I guess I've always been this way. I'm not a joiner. I don't like to have obligations. I don't like for there to be things that I have to do. Even if it's something fun, I have this sense of dread in the time leading up to the event, like there's something hanging over my head that must be dealt with, and if it would only go away, I could get back to my hermit-like existence.

I am also a habitual rescheduler. I'm really good at taking care of things like making doctor's appointments, or arranging for things Evan might need to do, because it makes me feel like I'm in control; like I'm taking care of business. But then, like Cate, I'll look at the calendar and see that there might be more than one appointment per week encroaching on my free time, and I start to get all anxious. I spend quite a lot of time on the phone, poring over my calendar, rescheduling things to make sure I'm not overobligating myself. This week alone I rescheduled Cal's 6-month well check, my annual gynecologist visit, and a lunch date (sorry, Hillary...that one was a legitimate schedule conflict!). I've rescheduled Evan's hearing test more times than I can count. I wouldn't have done that if the child didn't wake up every time you breathe a little too heavy outside his bedroom door...not concerned about his hearing one bit.

At my old job, I procrastinated meetings, appointments, photo shoots, everything. Just because I like to look at my calendar and see lots of open space. Lots of white. It makes it seem like the possibilities are endless, even though I wouldn't actively seek out any possibility at all.

I had originally signed up for three classes in the fall. But as the semester approaches, I began getting sweaty palms about all of that commitment, all of that having to be somewhere at a certain time. All of that schoolwork. So I dropped one of them, even though it's a required class and also one that I have to complete before I can move to the next level of the program. But it requires a pretty hefty practicum in a school, and what would I do with Cal all that time, and how would I get all my work done? So I made the trek up to the registrar's office (because the college is so bass-ackwards that you can't do anything over the phone, fax or internet...you have to load yourself and your giant 6-month old into your aging Volvo to drive the 80-mile round trip to the damn registrar's office, and don't even get me started on the fact that there are no ramps OR elevators in the freaking building, so screw you if you need to get to the second floor and you're in a wheelchair or pushing a stroller with the aforementioned giant baby in it) and dropped the stupid class. Then I sat outside and practiced my deep breathing, feeling every muscle in my body relax now that I got that monkey off my back.

I don't know what all of this says about me. Passive-aggressive? Fear of commitment? Slackass? Most likely a combination of all of the above. I guess I feel like I never have any time just for me, and I get stingy with it.