Recently, I had a very busy week at work. I knew it was coming and had participated with gusto in previous years during this week, so I figured I was ready. But I wasn’t.
The week was Homecoming. We are a 6-12 school. For the third? year in a row, I signed up to serve on the committee. My main contribution revolves around the middle school Sock Hop. A few years ago, my middle schoolers were not happy that they were not going to get to go to the dance. Understandably.
So…I posed the question of whether they could have a dance on a smaller scale than the Saturday post-game extravaganza. And the committee agreed (YAY!) and agreed that I should head it up (yay). So, for the past few years, this has been my labor of love to the middle school. In a previous post, I mentioned that strange things happen if you hand me a microphone.
One thing I do at the sock hop is DJ. Yup.
For some reason, if you hand me a microphone and allow me to DJ, I tend to be fairly interactive. I stop short of shock jock. There may be singing that happens into the microphone. And we’ll just say that no one has offered me a recording contract…and, unless they are tone deaf, they likely never will.
Another thing you should know about me: um…if I’m hosting/planning an event…I get VERY panicky right at the end. And fret over every last detail…especially those beyond my control.
And the middle school sock hop is my baby.
So…when my phone case’s cable didn’t work with the school’s sound system (and I discovered this three minutes before the dance was to start)…we’ll just say there was panic. My carefully, meticulously agonized over playlist (vetted of cursing, alcohol and drug references as much as possible, and sexual references–by the way, did you realize that “1999” by Prince was totally and completely inappropriate? That was not something to discover at 8:30 the evening before the dance) looked as if it were going to go down the drain.
But, within 10 minutes, and lots of “calm down…everything will be okay” from a coworker (who has been witness to tears from me before and was desperately trying to ensure that I didn’t cry again), I was able to get things going with my laptop.
Thank goodness for plan Z.
Was the worry worth it? When I heard my sixth graders so excited about the dance before hand and talk about how much fun it had been the next day at school, it was worth it.
That was Wednesday.
Thursday was the carnival. Again, someone trying to soothe my panic. This time, it was my boss with a reminder that if the weather failed (our first major rain in weeks was due to hit roughly the time the carnival started) the students wouldn’t care where the carnival was held as long as there was one.
At Friday’s game (We won by completely annihilating them, by the way), I worked concessions. At around 9:40, after the game was over and we were ready to go, I grabbed my laptop bag (which was admittedly heavy) and swayed dangerously. To the point that the assistant principal who provided much needed help in concessions that night asked if I were okay. I chalked it up to being unbalanced from the weight of the bag, but even then, I was worried.
In the past, I’ve heard of people being hospitalized for exhaustion and chalked it up to hospitals and publicists covering for clients who had a substance abuse problem.
And then Saturday hit. The day that I was supposed to begin preparing for Canadian Thanksgiving (on the 13th) by shopping and advance prepping as much as I could. I also (even though I told myself that I had reached a breaking point) planned to go help set up for the “big” dance.
So…at 9 I set out for Kroger. And felt…drunk. (No alky in my system, by the way.) The last time I had felt that wonky without any alcohol in my system I had stayed up all night and pulled myself together with two blue agave Full Throttle energy drinks (something I have not done in years).
Disoriented dizzy spacey. I had a headache. Driving in this condition was not one of the brightest decisions I had ever made in my life. But I had a cart full of Canadian Thanksgiving items to procure. Josh and Muffin stayed at home because, in addition to being disoriented, I was also adamant that I could get it done faster without them. Did I mention that I also refused breakfast?
Yes. I do idiotic things. A lot.
Coherent that morning I was not. I’m not sure if the people at Kroger were going to kick me out for being possibly under the influence of something (I wasn’t really walking in a coordinated fashion and I stared at some items on the shelf stupidly for minutes at a time) or call the hospital because, obviously, something was horribly wrong.
I made it home, and Josh and Muffin joined me for the remainder of the trip: Albertson’s and Super 1. Then, I came home and slept.
I woke up and still felt…well…exhausted.
Yes. Even now, that word sounds wimpy. A cop-out. A give up. Why didn’t I go help set up for the dance? I was asleep and exhausted. Why didn’t I help chaperone? I was exhausted.
To the point that I was about to go to my local hospital, one I have complete and utter faith in, and insist that I be admitted…for exhaustion.
Really, though, I shouldn’t be exhausted…at least any more than usual. Except I came home with the onset of a sinus infection from my sister’s the weekend before.
Which may account for some of the disorientation, fogginess, and balance problems now that I think about it.
And, when I start getting a sinus infection, the only way to stop it in its tracks is bed rest. Which didn’t happen this week.
Also, in case you haven’t noticed, I have trouble letting go. When I was at my sister’s, my sister basically said that my song should be “Let It Go” from Frozen…because…well…I can’t. Let things go. They fester.
And so…in October…I have decided to let…it…go. Resolve to end all stress that I possibly can. Not let things fester. To say “no” and mean it.
And on that happy note…Happy Thoughtful Thursday, everyone!