Ever since we got Posey–four weeks ago–it has made quite an impact on my schedule. Although I work at home, there are times I need to go out and do an interview in person. Plus I have errands to run. Up until last month, I was able to schedule things pretty easily. Now it’s a little more of a chore. Just like having a new baby in the house, you need to plan around feeding and sleeping times. Factor in that she didn’t like being in her crate in the beginning and I don’t really enjoy cleaning up puppy puddles, or piles, and that sort of narrows my opportunities to get out of the house, for business or leisure.
So, Sunday was one of those rare days when we didn’t have any assignments at church. My husband’s very involved in our church and does various things, plus about once a month we serve as greeters and my son is an altar server. Every week, there’s something. But not this week. So we chose to go to Mass on Saturday night and sleep in Sunday. Well, that was the plan, anyway.
Posey has been sleeping through the night, finally. She usually doesn’t get up until she hears someone else get up. I thought, “Yeah! I’m gonna sleep in until 7.” (That may not sound like sleeping in to most people, but I’m usually up between 4 & 5 the rest of the week, so sleeping until 7 am is downright lazy for me.) And then, right on cue, we got a rip-roarin’ thunderstorm accompanied by 30 mph winds. She started waking up at 3 am. She was up again around 3:30. Then again at 4:15. As much as we try to let her “cry it out,” I knew it wouldn’t matter. The thunder and high winds were freaking her out and she was just going to keep crying until it stopped. So I went downstairs and let her out of her crate. After a short time, she settled down and fell back asleep. I stretched out on the couch and did the same. By now it was 5:30, but I did sleep until 7, so I guess I got my wish after all, just not exactly the way I had it planned.
But since I didn’t have to get up for Mass, I planned a shopping excursion. By myself. Other than making a grocery run, this is not something I’ve been able to do for the past four weeks. It’s amazing how that can turn a trip to Target and Kohl’s into a luxurious experience. I got a few pieces to round out my wardrobe, including some sorely needed “nice” pajamas, a cute business casual top, a new track suit to wear to my son’s ball games and whatever running around I do, and a new pair of yoga pants to replace the pair that Posey ripped when we were playing Fetch a couple weeks ago. I also bought myself some pretty earrings and a new ring, just for fun. I treated myself to lunch at Souper Salad, knowing I wouldn’t have time to do all the food prep I normally do on Sunday. When I got back, I still had to make dinner, take a phone call from my mom, and take my kids to their religious ed (RE) classes that night.
I felt a little bad that I wasn’t going to fulfill one of my goals for the week, prepping my produce and other healthy snacks on Sunday. And then I didn’t feel bad at all. It had been at least four weeks since I’d taken any real time for myself, so why should I feel bad? It wasn’t like I was laying on my ass, shoveling down ice cream. I was replacing items in my wardrobe that needed to be replaced, some for quite a long time, and getting my head back together. Both of those things really needed to be done. So why feel bad about that?
Today I have to go do an interview, write an ad, plus do some other work, get all that food prep done, and then take my son to and from baseball practice. Tomorrow is more of the same, except I have two appointments, not one. The rest of the week is more and more and more of the same. I’m already tired. But I’m so glad I took that time yesterday, because I’d hate to think of how I’d feel if I hadn’t.