I don't get it

So, I am officially done work for the holidays - two and a bit weeks of freeeeeedom and sleeping in, yeah!

But... I'm home now, and it's only 2pm, and.... I'm kinda bored.

Like.... Now what?

I mean. I could clean. I could tidy up. I could watch Netflix and try and find junk food. But I feel no interest in any of those things, yet don't know what I do want to do.

This may have something to do with the fact my leg is in plaster and there's bugger all of the things I actually want to do that I can do. It's just weird that I've been waiting for what feels like months and months to do nothing... And now I'm doing nothing, I'm really freaking bored of doing said nothing. 

Tapas

Last time we hit up this tapas bar was for a joint birthday with friends from the previous post; we decided to was too good to let a whole year go past and thought we'd book for our monthly junket this weekend. And. Wow. Just wow. Eating all kinds of delicious noms, testing various bottles of Verdeho, enjoying a Japanese girl dance the flamenco to a Spanish guitarist whilst we dined on the street feeling all Italian and exotic... Yum.

Devils on horseback - otherwise know as bacon and date pinchos - equal the single most amazing thing I have ever had the joy of placing in my mouth. They're stuffed with a whiskey gel that makes me want to pray thanks to a divine spirit I don't even believe in. Just.. Wow. 

Traditions

BIt's become tradition that every Friday night we head to our little local, small town cafe for a feed and a few bottles of wine with two friends that we have grown to known more and more over the past 7 years we've been together. Ironically; cam and I knew one part of the couple we go out with individually and then realized we all weirdly knew each other. They're a freaking fantastic couple who make me happier and make me laugh more than possibly any other people on this earth. We eat delicious food, share new found discoveries of moscato and generally have an all-round fabulous time on our weekly Friday catch ups and monthly forays into degustation deliciousness.

I hate seeing them sad. It breaks my heart. These are two of the hands down most lovely, genuine, GOOD people on this earth. Their troubles make me feel powerless, and reiterate that I'm crap at being someone who is remotely helpful at helping/fixing things/saying the right thing. I hate their pain. I hate their troubles. I wish I had a magic want to fix the wrongs in their life. 

Put a fork in me

...I'm done. There are no words for my current level of exhaustion.

I've driven close to 2000km in 5 days trying to be Nan's ears when she's being told what's happening with surgery/ongoing treatment, and being there for mum as she must be even more exhausted than I am. It's been brought to my attention that hospitals aren't exactly places of action. 

I've got so much on both at work and trying to juggle two huge weekends coming up. Working out what are priorities and feeling like no matter what I choose, I'll be letting someone down. 

It's hard when something I want for selfish reasons - my show cow and prepping for our first show at the start of Jan - is put totally out the window when I know I should be prioritizing my work family Christmas instead. Trying to see my horse who will be put to sleep in a few weeks now has gone to shit. I know he's receiving the best of care with his new owner, but he's been part of my heart and soul for 6 years, and I can't even guesstimate when I will get to say a farewell to him. Feeling so selfish for being sad about the things I *want* to be doing when I know I should be focusing on all the positive of Nan's first surgery going well, and a long overdue catch up with Cam's extended family for our annual Christmas weekend, but I just want to crawl in a hole and sleep, and be with my own family instead. Whine, whinge, moan... Just needing a vent.

Stabby stabby needles

I had my first acupuncture today - I thought we'd just enjoy a little chat and she'd warn me in advance of imminent stabbing. But no. She practically threw a needle into my skull like a dart player to prove it didn't hurt, then proceeded to stick needles in me in various locations, none of which were actually painful except my right wrist. I mentioned my discomfort and was informed the ones you feel are the ones you need to feel most - and turns out my specific pain point was my Heart Protection spot. You know. Like... Where I keep all my emotional walls of barbed wire, bricks and incindary devices to keep people out of my hurt zone. Doesn't sound like me at alllllll. I very nearly had a complete mental breakdown, and I'm not one who is open or receptive to 'relaxation' and meditation, but low and behold after a half hour of listening to a meditation with constant 'shhh! Stop thinking!' Thoughts to myself... I could hardly summon the energy to lift myself off the bed. I felt pleasantly heavy and nicely groggy, but weirdly.... Not traumatized. I don't do needles. I don't do relaxation. I don't do talking openly about the issues I'm having that made me google good old fertility support options. And yet.. Here I am, chilled out, not all up in my head with horrid thoughts, not totally dreading a repeat pincushion experience next week. I actually feel kind of... Not like myself. I am informed I should have renewed energy, a higher level of self acceptance (couldn't be a whole lot lower) and a positive pregnancy test by the end of January. I should be able to wean off the medications I am on, be able to carry to full term and have a less stressful pregnancy and birth and all that jazz. I shall remain hopefully optimistic and see where this stabbing goes.