Worky-work, Busy Bee

(Image by William Warby via Flickr)

Sometimes, the best thing to do is just put your head down and work.

I come from a family with a strong work ethic, but I wouldn’t consider myself a worker bee. I don’t just pound something out. I don’t have that push. I worked 90+ hour weeks for the three years my school was operational, and at least 70+ hours when I taught public school the eleven years prior, but I am not a grinder. I like to think about the direction I am going in for weeks before I get things done. It works for me. It may seem last-minute, but I actually perform best under a deadline.

However.

Things are complex lately. I have thoughts I perhaps shouldn’t be having about people I should definitely not be having them about, and the best thing  to do is leave it alone. Walk away.

However.

If you know me, you know that, as controlled as I am, I suffer from poor impulse control as a general rule. And things are bubbling up for me that have been dormant for awhile. Which decreases my ability to make good decisions. When this happens, the best that can be hoped for is no collateral damage.

This post is vague. I know. More than usual. Trying to process what shouldn’t be said by not saying it when I absolutely need to say it out loud is difficult. I could talk to Dane, but he has no comment (ha. Gallows humor. The fact that I still have his ashes has started to tickle me of late, which may be a direct result of some of this other stuff). He might find watching me struggle with this amusing, and if it were him, he might actually go for it. Dane's impulse control = worse than mine.

So. I am working. Writing. Cleaning. Looking for more freelance jobs. Putting myself under pressure. Going to yoga six, sometimes seven times a week (which is part of the problem and also the solution. Yoga is stirring and releasing some things that have been hidden and closed for awhile. Damn you, and hallelujah at the same time. But I digress.).

Worky-work, busy bee. That’s me.