Last night I spent a frantic five hours finishing up copy edits for my employer’s webpages, this after my first day back to kung fu in a month, that after my first yoga on the day prior, then being my first exercise at all since november, all this physical exhaustion building on the mental fatigue of knowing more work is to come, that I have the impromptu market to prepare for, so that each accomplished task sprouts more deeds, without end, so there is no working toward completion, only work to reach the next work.
Today I awoke twice, first, to the robot, second, to the cats and two missed emails. Dead plant, can I help. Further copy, can I amend? Then kung fu, stretching the battered frame, trying to tuck in the edges to make a formless sheet into the sharp edged shape of a box spring. Five minutes’ rest in between, class meditation my only license to relax, before locking joints and hitting staves for two hours. More copy requests on the phone. Fast drive, nearly flat tire.
Home as my muscles start locking up, pile vegetables into a bowl, feed myself for the first real hunger I’ve felt in months as my body makes demand of more materials. Copy edited, plant email sent, website updated–
And then nothing. I didn’t have an option on my to do list for down time. My employer is busy now, has nothing for me until this evening. Body’s too sore for more exercise. Daily chores were done six hours ago. All that momentum loaded like an asteroid and suddenly inertia’s ceased to exist. That awkward feeling come of swallowing a shout.
Email pops up, then another. Both settled, my brain feels like a group of assembly line workers fighting over the contents atop a constipated conveyor belt. Three hammered whack-a-mole with a single working marmot.
An hour passes and caffeine finally has me calm. The ache around my armpits seems set on detaching both limbs but my skin is fresh and alive from a hot shower. Assemblage 23 covering Love My Way as my brain starts to re-congeal. Just because what I thought I’d have to do isn’t what needs to be done doesn’t mean there’s nothing for me.
There’s always more work. Every task is meaningful. Only the turns of a cog in a broken watch are useless.