This past week has served to remind me that no matter how normal I feel, I'm not the same person I was three years ago. I don't know if it was the rush of striking out on our own again, or a compelling need to prove to myself that life does indeed go on that pushed me to take on so much at once. Maybe it was just the excitement of having our old things back that made me want to tear into boxes like it was Christmas. Whatever the motive, I'm feeling the effects now.
After a week of constant movement, my body is reminding me that I need a day off. Countless loads of laundry have been done in the hopes of removing the dust and stale smell of disuse. Boxes have slowly migrated out to the curb to be hauled away. Piles of clothes have been neatly folded and boxed to be donated. The constant activity of the last week has taken its toll and I'm paying my dues by sitting back today and taking it easy.
I've felt so well over the last few weeks. It's a feeling that I find hard to convey, but if you've ever recovered from a serious illness, you probably know what I'm talking about. That horrible listless, helpless feeling vanishes to be supplanted by a kernel of energy. That little bit of energy grows into a sense of security. That sense of security lures you out into the world daring strangers to isolate you as a former cancer patient.
Before cancer and chemo and all of the drug cocktails, I was able to hold down a full time job with crazy hours that changed from week to week and go to school full time. I look back at that woman and wonder who she was. My feeling of well being fooled me into thinking that maybe I was up to the challenge of working eight to nine hours a day. The first day was a breeze. The second was just a little more effort, but not much. The last two days have found me needing to take breaks in between tasks in an effort to stop spinning my wheels. I haven't exactly over done it, per se, but I recognize that I need to back off a bit. I'm not the person that I once was and I'm beginning to realize that I'll never be that person again. That's fine with me. I'm still here and I'm not going to lament the lost ability to keep so many balls in the air. I'm still here.
I'm happily tired from the full time job of setting up house and although there are still a few boxes cluttering the living room, I'm going to reward myself today by sitting back and re-energizing. Etsuko seems pleased with this arrangement since she's been sorely neglected over the past few days in favor of restoring order. She's sitting next to me, haughty in her disdain of her pet person as only a particular kind of cat can be, purring quietly. I'll let my eyes skip over the boxes in the office and the clutter in the spare bedroom. The mirrors and pictures stacked in the corner will not mock me into hanging them. It will get done in due time.
After all, I'll be here tomorrow.