Can someone please explain to me how I’m more tired now that I have a sleeping-through-the-night kind of baby compared to when I had a brand new, hungry-at-all-hours, squishy-old-man-faced model?
In other news: WHO IS THIS?! I simply do not know.
Internet, I’m fucking exhausted. EXHAUSTED. I guess it has to do with having shows Wednesday through Saturday (with two on Friday, OMG), but I kind of want to die every morning when I have to get out of bed. And then again at my desk in the afternoons. And once more when I’m driving to the theatre in the evening. Last night, on my way to the show, I decided that if I could have anything in the world at that very moment — a glass of wine, a huge pizza loaded with cheese and roma tomatoes and basil, a motherfucking baby unicorn filled with Cool Ranch Doritos, ANYTHING — I would choose a nap. A NAP.
What bothers me most is not that I have to deal with the sensation of feeling tapped the fuck out, it’s the fact that my body has THE BALLS to feel exhausted. I mean, Sadie sleeps for roughly 11 uninterrupted hours each night, and when I have a show, Brad happily takes care of mostly all of the morning & evening baby duties. Even with all of these great things, my body has the FUCKING AUDACITY to feel exhausted. I mean, srsly, what gives?
Although my instinct is to jump to reasonable conclusions such as 1) OMG PREGNANT (I’m not, pinky swear) and/or 2) OMG DYING, I think the culprit is mostly mental. Planning for a full day of daycare-work-theatre (with a generous sprinkling of “sharing one carseat-equipped vehicle” and “oh yeah, we should probably have some clean clothes and food in the house”) is wearing my ass out. I cannot muster one extra ounce of giving a shit when it comes to accomplishing anything beyond what is absolutely necessary for survival.
I am hoping this is all just a symptom of having dedicated most of the past month of evenings to the show, and that when it closes this weekend, I’ll feel a resurgence of motivation and inspiration. Because more than once this week, I’ve been seriously bummed out over having to WALK MY ASS TO THE BATHROOM.
Let me just repeat that: I’m so tired that befouling my chair seems preferable to traveling to an actual toilet.
Entry filed under: Gobble-gobble.