A Blessing and A Curse

I'm talking about my Achilles Heel.

I am 100%, absolutely, positively, physically unable to relax.

For example. The picture below is from Bora Bora. It's my avatar on a message board I frequent, as my "dream vacation spot." And it's beautiful. Drool-worthy.



But the more I look at it, the more my brain says "So... you lounge around in this gorgeous over-the-water cabana, sipping on some beautiful fruit salad of a tropical cocktail... And that takes about 30 minutes or so, depending on the diameter of the straw opening... AND THEN WHAT???"

And much as I would like to tell my brain to shut the hell up and let me enjoy my drink, I realize that it is absolutely right. I wouldn't last one day in Bora Bora.

It's genetic. I blame my mother and my grandmother. (Thanks, guys! You're the bestest!)

On the plus side, I am a productive gal, a multitasker. The more projects I have up in the air, the better. I make monstrous to-do lists and I take great pleasure in completing them. I pride myself on being able to do it all. It's kind of what makes me tick.

But there's a downside. I get run down.

I woke up at 3am feeling as though someone was repeatedly and mercilessly stabbing me in the skull with an ice pick. I thought I was getting a migraine yesterday, but figured it would dissipate overnight. And I should have gone to bed early, but then Big Love came on and we had to see the Saints win the NFC Championship and I just sort of forgot.

So I tossed and turned until MacGyver got up, so he could get me some Excedrin Migraine from the store (he had used up the rest of the Motrin when he had his surgical procedure a few weeks ago, so it was only fair). He handed me my dose and sent me back to bed.

But stuff was going on. And I was just lying there. Useless. Totally UNproductive.

The headache faded. I had my iPhone. So I checked email. And Facebook.

I could hear Turtle and MacGyver playing. The dogs barking. Stuff going on.

And it was really silly to just be in bed if my head was ok, right?

So I got up.

And I was all panicky because I was WAY behind the 8-ball. After all, I had to fold laundry and mop the floors, and do my 30 Day Shred, and get new shoes for Turtle (who is growing faster than the speed of light) and get together with my friend to help her do some stuff around the house and....

MacGyver cut me off with a very stern "no." That I needed to, at best, go back to bed, and at worst, just hang out and not do any of those things. Oh, except the shoes, but he decided that he would join us for that outing. Probably to make sure that I didn't turn a trip to the outlets into an excuse to run a stroller lap around the stores. He's wily that way.

And, even with those restrictions, I managed to overdo it today. I did fold the laundry. And I'm still multitasking (writing this blog entry while half-watching Twilight and talking with MacGyver while Molly cuddles on my knee), but I'm going to bed early. No computer, no reading. Nothing.

And the thought is completely awful. Even though it's good for me. I like to pretend that "sleeping in" or "doing a lot of nothing" or "relaxing" are things I'd love to do. But I'm just lying to myself. I admit it. However, I do promise to take a little more care of myself. Not because I particularly enjoy it, but because I'd much rather be doing something fun than sitting here feeling like poo.

PS - MacGyver? Honey? If you're reading this, please do not get the impression that I would not appreciate or enjoy a trip to Bora Bora. That would be incorrect. I'm sure I could find something to occupy my time. So don't strike it off the list of Fabulous Birthday and/or Holiday Surprises. It's still completely in play. Love you!