I am tired.
No. Tired doesn’t even cut it, I am fatigued. Actually, I’ve crossed the fatigued threshold, I am exhausted.
And here’s the kicker – I haven’t even DONE anything! I mean, other than living life, taking care of my family, working (and how taxing can that be, I work on the computer!), cleaning, baking, and doing the normal weekly errands, I honestly haven’t done anything.
And before you read that and go, “but Karen, that’s a lot!” It’s truly not. It’s not any more than any of you guys do on a daily basis and yet, I am so tired I can’t even keep my eyes open.
I’ve dealt with fatigue my entire life. I was able to combat it for so many years because I worked jobs that kept me physically active. If I’m constantly moving, then I don’t have the time to get tired.
And when I got home, I slept like the dead.
But now, now that I sit in front of the computer all day long, and I’m not physically active, it (whatever “it” is), catches up to me and I honestly can’t think, I can’t move, I can’t keep my eyes open.
I’m not depressed. At least, I don’t think I am. I’m not bored (most of the time). I’m not stressed (okay, maybe I’m a little stressed – this not having steady income coming in every month is sort of taxing, but we’re okay, financially, if we continue to play our cards right), I think my fatigue stems from something physical – I’ve always battled anemia and when I remember to take my iron, I usually snap out of my fatigue.
The problem is, I’ve been taking my iron and I’m STILL dead tired.
One problem is because I haven’t been exercising. But I’ve been too tired to exercise. Which is a stupid excuse because you actually have more energy when you exercise, but it’s the getting started part that’s hard. Once you get get going, it’s not that bad and I end up feeling great! And I sleep good.
Which is another reason I’m so tired all the time; I’m not sleeping. I toss and turn and jerk myself awake three or four times a night to check the time. I don’t want to oversleep. Even though the boys have their own alarms, and they use them, I need to get up because, well, how is it fair that they have to get up early every morning and I sleep in? If I’m up, it’s easier for them to get up. Not to mention, I need to get up. It’s morning, it’s time to get the day started.
So, I know I’m not getting quality REM sleep, which only exasperates the problem.
I’m so tired of feeling tired all the time. Something must change.
Beginning this evening, no matter how tired I am, I am going to get on that treadmill and walk/jog my three miles. I might even do 20 minutes of Turbo Jam.
I’ve gained weight. Which does not help the tired factor. But even at my skinniest, I’m still tired.
I’m tired of being tired. Oh. I already said that. See? I’m so tired, I’m repeating myself.
I’m breaking down. I’m going to try the stuff my in-laws sell. It’s called Reliv and they SWEAR by it. Kevin has also been drinking a shake every morning and he’s been a blur ever since. I’m like walking in slow motion and he’s buzzing around me at top speed – it’s frustrating and a little embarrassing.
So. Beginning tomorrow morning, I will drink some Reliv. I will try and remember to update you guys on how it makes me feel. I only hope it serves to inject a little energy into me because I can’t go on feeling this way. I have plans. I have a future mapped out for me. I can’t afford to be tired.
Literally.
I finally broke down and bought my textbooks today. As in, just now.
I had been oscillating back and forth on whether I wanted to buy them or not. Which is stupid because I’ve already signed up, and paid for, the class. The books were not cheap. And I even went the third party route on Amazon.
I think I hesitated on ordering them because once I hit that “pay” button, there was no going back. I was making a commitment to pursue this paralegal career choice.
I MADE the commitment. It’s a done deal.
My class starts next Wednesday. It’s an online class through a vocational college here in town. I have to sign on every Wednesday and Friday to get my assignments.
This class is the first of a series of six. It’s a non-credit class that is designed to prepare me for a paralegal career. Since I already have a Bachelor’s of Science (in Professional Writing), then all I should be required to do is take these preparation courses and then take the paralegal certificate exam. After that, I should be able to get a job as a paralegal. I figure with my writing degree, that should give me an edge.
Keyword: should.
I am polishing my resume. This is actually quite a process because I haven’t had a job outside the home in seven years. Though I’ve technically been “working”, it probably won’t translate into anything impressive when I get to the interviewing stage.
At any rate, I found a site that lists attorneys in my area and I plan on trolling those sites to see if they are possibly hiring. And by hiring, I mean looking for law clerks or even receptionists. I am not too proud to take a lowly position just so I can get my foot in the door.
I’m quite confident that once I’m in, I’ll impress their socks off and they will wonder how they ever got along without me.
Am I being overly confident, especially given the disaster that is Obama’s economy right now?
Possibly. But I prefer to call it optimistic. 🙂
Now I get to sweat it out for the next week and hope my textbooks come in a timely manner. Of course, if they don’t, I have no one to blame but myself.
As usual.
We asked the same people we bought our kitchen tile from to come out and measure our living room / dining room – they came yesterday.
Then they called us today to give us an estimate on how much they would charge to rip out our carpets, haul it off, and then install our wood floor.
It’s about what we expected.
Expensive.
However, we’ve been talking about doing this for years and we feel like now is the time to do it.
It’s a dark, polished maple and we’re really excited to get it down.
Actually, we’ll be even more excited after it’s installed. Moving furniture is going to be a challenge with Kevin out of commission (sort of), but that’s the perk of having two teenage boys —
cheap labor.