Too Productive for Work

This morning was sort of an early morning.

I say "sort of" because it wasn't so early as it could have been - we only had to get up about half an hour before we usually do.

But it was rainy... And the rain was making a delightful pitter-patter against the window pane without raining so hard that the sound would make me have to leave my bed-cocoon to go pee...**1 And Boyfriend of Amazingness was being full of snuggles.

So when the alarm went off half an hour before we typically have to rise-and-shine, I didn't want any part of it.

But then, once I did rouse myself, I started having the most productive morning I've had in quite some time.

I showered. I dressed myself, and was happy with the result on the second try. Hair, makeup, brushed teeth, and the rest of the shenanigans that are typically attended in the morning were seen to.

Then I made the bed.

Complete with brandy-new fresh sheets for this evening.

I folded the clean laundry that had made it to the bedroom but needed to be folded.

Then I put it away.

I put the dirty laundry into baskets, ready to be taken downstairs and washed.

I emptied the bedroom trashcan - which was overflowing with dryer sheets and dead socks - and brought everything downstairs to the kitchen trashcan. Upon realizing that this trash filled the can completely, I brought the bag outside and put a fresh one in the kitchen.

I packed my lunch.

I looked at the clock, and it was finally time for me to depart.

As I tied my shoes, I thought about how productive I had been in the past hour.

I hadn't gotten so much done in weeks.

I mean... I had intended to. But there's been the house-hunting thing going on, and the emotions and stress tied to that have made me a Sunny-Zombie. I come home from work, struggle through dinner and then crash on the couch full of sleeps. Sometimes I make it through a couple episodes of a TV show with Boyfriend of Amazingness... but most often I just zonk into dreamland. He wakes me up around bedtime and points me in the direction of Bed.

On weekends, instead of being productive, I sit and I think about everything that needs to get done. Typically there's some social event or another that needs attending. And then... I nap. My mind is exhausted and frustrated.

So this morning, when I awoke all full of rain-assisted sleep and ready to face the day, I thought "Hmm... what a waste. I'm so ready to get things done, and I have to go to work."

Which was the point at which I wondered if it's ever okay to call in "too productive for work."

"I'm sorry, Boss. I can't come in to work today. There's laundry and dishes and vacuuming and I'm seriously thinking I might even get out the dust rag... and I'm just feeling too productive to come sit at my desk today. I'll see you tomorrow, when I'm worn out and pathetic again."

**1 I realized upon re-reading this that I had made it sound ever-so-slightly as though a light rain is cause for peeing in the bed instead of getting up to use the facilities. This is not the case... but it made me giggle so I didn't rephrase it. This clarification is offered for anyone who was worried about my bladder control.

The Madness! The Horror!

Not really.

To be perfectly honest, I'm not at all surprised that I haven't posted in 12 days. (That's very festive of me. 12 is a big thing this season.)

Here's what I have accomplished, in no particular order (and not at all a complete record):

CREATIVELY SPEAKING

* I successfully repossesed my home from the sparkly garments of a local show I costumed.

* I successfully arranged said garments in a fashion that didn't impede my dancers as they got themselves onto the stage night after night.

* I successfully arrived at the theater on time each night and completed each task that needed completing. (OF NOTE: This wouldn't have happened without my fantastic support crew. TD Gnome, you are most thoroughly thanked.)

* I found a Christmas tree with Boyfriend of Amazingness, got it to stand up and remembered to water it before it turned brown and died. (Well... died more. It was dead as soon as we cut it down.) We even got it decorated.

* I found and printed out Christmas cards of acceptable sparkle-without-having-glitter.

SOCIALLY SPEAKING

* I successfully kept a level head throughout all of tech week for the dance show, without being a party to any major meltdowns. (Read: there were no major meltdowns to be a party to. There were hardly even any minor meltdowns. I was so proud!)

* I made it through a dance party for opening night of the dance show, where I shook my groove thang on the dance floor until the wee hours of the morning. (Of note because I've resisted the urge to take the dance floor since high school. It just felt weird... But I'm glad I broke that drought. It was totally worth it for the happy picture of me with BofA, Lighting Guy and my Amazingly Fantastic Producer letting the stress of the past three months go out on the dance floor.)

* I made it through the party the following night for cast and crew, where I managed to stay on the sober side of tipsy and then get my Designated Driver on and see my friends safely home.

* I managed to only miss one dance class due to my own scheduling conflicts. (Although I was planning to miss last night's, but it was cancelled before I got a chance to not show up, so I don't think it counts.)

HEALTHFULLY SPEAKING

* I successfully put on my big girl panties and dealt with it after a doctor's appointment I had been dreading was postponed for a week due to my doctor's absence for the birth of one of her other patient's babies. I even managed to pull together some happy thoughts for the family.**1

* I took a nap every day during the weekend.

* I actually ate a meal that was cooked at home.

* I managed not to completely lose my marbles when I stepped in poop in my brand new opening night gala shoes.

I still need to finish the show. Then I need to pack up everything and get it back to where it belongs. I may even have to do some laundry.

I need to clean my home for the holidays, just in case anyone comes over to visit. Without the costumes there, I don't have an excuse for its untidiness.

I need to make cookies and candies for the assorted goody baskets I try to give out to friends who are worthy of gifts but I don't want to spend money on.

Hell... I still need to finish Christmas shopping. I need to fill out and mail my cards. I need to start finding Who Pudding for the feast. With a week to go until the big day, that in itself can be a nightmare.

But I'm keeping my head up. I can totally do this.

From me to you:



Festive Holiday-Of-Choice, ReaderFriend.
I hope it's full of all good things.
All good things, and pie.

 **1 Updated: The doctor's appointment turned out to be okie-dokie. Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a little while, after I passed out... but I came to just fine, and got to spend a weekend on the couch eating cookies and snuggling with Boyfriend of Amazingness. Not to worry, ReaderFriends - I'm not going anywhere.