That's the only way to describe it. This heavy feeling that has pushed me down into a nest of blankets on the couch, staring blankly for hours in the general direction of the Friends marathon that's been happening on my TV.
It's getting harder and harder to open my eyes in the morning. Getting the girls out the door without screaming at them is becoming even more of a challenge, and I honestly can't tell you the last time I had an actual conversation with anyone. I have projects that I should be doing. Manuscripts I should be reading* and revising, costumes I should be making... rooms that I should really, really be cleaning. But each day, no matter what my intentions were as I saw the kids down the street, I find myself shaking off a stupor at the end of the day when the alarm tells me it's time to pick them up again.
And every day, I feel more and more useless. Which just pushes me farther down into the blankets.
So today. Instead of letting the feeling that I am letting down everyone I know with my inaction, I am forcing myself. I am ignoring the siren call of that warm couch piled high with blankets, and forcing myself to write. To read. To make that present that I've been meaning to make since October**.
I don't care how pregnant Rachel Green is, I'm getting stuff done today.
*I'm lucky enough to be one of the beta readers for my friend Lesley's second book "The Queen's Viper", and I haven't been fulfilling my duties. Her first, "Growing a Rainbow", her preemie son Torran's birth story is available through Aquhorthies Publishing.
**It's coming, Sunshine, I swear!